


On the first day of Christmas my Time Lord gave to me...

by DoctorDalek, TraditionalGaily



Series: Secrets [15]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A Christmas Carol, Advent Calendar, Alright not too graphic depictions of violence, Anal Sex, Atrocities of war, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Smut, Dirty Talk, Every day a new chapter, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Ice Skating, M/M, Mushrooms, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Romance, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Humor, Stocking Fetish, Time War memories, brainwashed rat, cHRISTMAS MOOD, just a little bit, lots of snow, naughty opossums, regenerating into a lemming, wintersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 21,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorDalek/pseuds/DoctorDalek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TraditionalGaily/pseuds/TraditionalGaily
Summary: The Doctor finds himself trapped inside his TARDIS with 25 mysterious doors simply popping into existence in his sub-basement. Who knows what long-forgotten and disturbing secrets lurk, hidden in the darkness beyond each door?An assorted collection of 25 short stories revolving around Theta and Koschei.Some are cute, some are funny, some are fluffy and some are smutty - the best way to attune yourself to the Christmas spirit!





	1. ...25 Peppermint-toffees

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome to our Doctor Who Advent Calender.  
> This story is part of the Secrets-Series but if you haven't read any of the previous stories, don't worry, it is self-explanatory.  
> Each day there will be a new chapter exploring the bizarre friendship Theta and Koschei are tangled in.  
> Feel free to leave a comment! Suggestions, too!

_The Doctor’s eyebrows knitted in bewilderment._  
_“Blimey…what’s that supposed to mean?” he mumbled, scratching his head worriedly as he stared at the outstretched corridor in front of him. He glanced at the smudgy circular writing the first of the 25 doors presented itself with._

_Prior to this the Doctor had been joyfully navigating his TARDIS into what turned out to be a cardiac solar flare, a light-storm so enriched by trans-matter, time eons and pure energy that didn’t just left a dent in the TARDIS’ varnish but took it right off._  
_There had been alarms, lights and sirens so disturbingly screaming with rage and despair. Small sparks had singed the Doctor’s hair as part of his controls imploded._  
_And then his ship had fallen silent._

_The Doctor, covered in plaster and a sticky orange slime of unknown origin, had crawled out from his hiding place beneath his keyboard and stared disbelievingly at the monitor which claimed that everything was back to normal._  
_And it wasn’t just the fact that his screwdriver was missing…_

_Something had called the Doctor._  
_Beckoned him._  
_He felt an irresistible urge to check on his wardrobe in sub-basement five._  
_And here he was now, staring at an assemblage of doors where his coat hangers should have been._  
_He read the first door’s sign with his lips moving soundlessly._  
_It just stated what was obvious._  
_The 1 st._  
_But the first of what? he wondered._

_So, being the inquisitive Doctor he couldn’t help being, he pushed open the door._  
_And was met by grey nothingness._

_There was fog with thin strands of mist whirling to and fro, contorting into obscure shapes before slowly melding into the background._  
_He reached out, gingerly trying to touch it. It stung, its iciness pricking his fingers._  
_A bitter coldness clung to the room. And it smelled of…_

_“Peppermint?” the Doctor wondered while sniffing, “Peppermint…with a hint of caramel?”_  
_It had always smelled of Peppermint-toffees in Koschei’s kitchen._

Theta stared at the giant tiles, expanding into nothingness in front of him, with their neat black and white pattern. And his face mirrored in every spotless dark tile.  
Then his gaze rose, his eyes refusing to take in the enormous windows disappearing into dwindling heights. The bright golden light that illuminated the windowsill…the countless shelves…

“Perfectly circular,” Koschei remarked as he stared at his gawping friend. The perfect “o”, Theta’s lips had until now formed, vanished as he folded his arms.  
“Jealous?” asked Koschei; he couldn’t bite back a chuckle as Theta narrowed his eyes at him.  
“No,” lied Theta, “I’m just…appalled due to the lavish lifestyle this household displays.”  
Koschei nodded. “So you admit being jealous,” he concluded.  
Theta folded his arms in front of his chest. “Was this why you asked me to spend the holiday with you?”  
Theta snorted, “For showing off? To rub it all in? ‘Ew, look, my parents are so posh they got their own private water supply, so they are not forced to drink the same tab water as ordinary people.’”  
“It’s not our fault that there’s subterranean water beneath our land, is it?” asked Koschei while grabbing the step-ladder and dragging it over to a shelf.  
“It’s just typical,” growled Theta.  
“So you’re jealous of our water too?” Koschei asked mockingly as he climbed the steps.  
“Just shut up,” snapped Theta, “And what are you doing up there?”  
“Oh, nothing,” replied Koschei dismissively, “Posh things you wouldn’t understand.”

Accompanied by Theta’s quietly mumbled curses Koschei rummaged through the remains of old jars and china. His smirk broadened as he discovered a tasteless art deco tin box. Proudly he presented it to Theta  
“Guess what’s inside?” he added. Theta cocked an eyebrow at him. “Diamonds? Your mother’s jewellery?”  
Koschei removed the lid.  
A sticky fragrance filled the air.  
“Peppermint?” asked Theta, moving closer as Koschei descended.  
“Peppermint-toffees,” explained Koschei, “Try one.”  
“Your mother’s?” Theta hazarded as he helped himself to a sweet.  
“Our cook’s,” replied Koschei, “I wouldn’t touch anything my mother cooked unless it’s been approved of by the food-taster.”  
“You have a food-taster too?” asked Theta, his shoulders sagging with unimportance again.  
“No,” Koschei chuckled, “But I’d have to get one if she takes to it.”

Theta savoured the taste quietly. After a while he shot Koschei a scrutinizing glare.  
“It’s not poisoned, is it?” he asked disapprovingly. Koschei shook his head.  
Silence followed as Theta chewed.  
“Why are you doing this?” he asked while he licked at the delicious remains still sticking to his fingers.  
“Doing what?” Koschei replied while reaching for another toffee.  
“You make fun of me, you carpet me and the next moment you’re offering me a treat. Why are you doing this?” Theta repeated. “I just don’t understand you.”

Koschei smirked at his remark. Nonchalantly he explained: “Stick and carrot. Or in your case emotional hurt and toffee.”  
“So you’re trying to train me?” Theta concluded, “Why?”  
“Just to see whether it can be achieved,” Koschei replied.  
“I’ll never get a straight answer out of you,” Theta replied, sighing in annoyance.  
“That depends,” Koschei replied, “Whether you ask one.”


	2. ...24 suspicious mushrooms

_The Doctor stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet. He grabbed the door handle and slammed the door shut in one swift movement before leaning against the unresisting wood, panting and sweating._

_Memories._  
_A child-hood memory._  
 _And a disturbing one, too._

 _Slowly the Doctor turned around to examine the door he’d just crashed through, only to find that it was no longer there.  
Just a wall, a solid wall that hurt your knuckles when you drummer your fist against it in agony.  
The Doctor growled and tried to massage some life back into his numb fingers.  
He’d caught a glimpse of the past.  
_ His _past._

_“But that’s trespassing on my own timeline,” mumbled the Doctor through gritted teeth, “And right here, right now. Trespassing on my own timeline inside of the TARDIS shouldn’t just be forbidden, it ought to be impossible.”_

_The Doctor sighed and turned. He dreaded to face the next door, hardly being surprised that the sign declared it to be the 2 nd. The 2nd of what, well, that was yet to be discovered.  
He groaned inwardly as he felt his hand reaching for the handle._

_Curiosity may have killed the cat, but the Doctor was beginning to fear that this old saw applied to Time Lords, too._

_All it needed was a gentle push and the door gave way to reveal…_  
_Another door._  
 _The Doctor stepped forward, staring disbelievingly at the new obstacle in front of him. He tried to rattle at the handle._

The door was locked.  
But no bolt could have kept the laughter and giggling in, which slowly protruded from behind it.  
Borusa was about to march past when he stopped, intrigued by those signs of unusual jollity.  
He pressed his ear against the wood to listen in on the conversation.

“Koschei, you’re sitting on my hand.”  
“That’s not your hand, that’s _mine_.”  
“Oh, really?”

There was another giggle and the sound of ripping canvas, followed by a dull, fleshy sound.  
“Did you feel that?”  
“Do I feel what, Koschei?”  
“Close your eyes.”  
“What?!”  
“I said close your eyes and don’t look, Theta. Here it comes again.” Another thud. “There, did you feel anything?”  
“I feel like I’m gonna be sick…”  
“Do you feel the fork stuck between your fingers?”  
“No,” replied the student Borusa had unambiguously identified as Theta-Sigma.  
“Then I was right and it was my hand I stuck it into after all,” said Koschei.

This unexpected remark was followed by dead silent.  
A cut-off yelp escaped Koschei as realization fought its way through limb sinuses and finally settled in on a brain completely unaware of its own existence.  
Then Theta started to giggle and, by the sound of it, fell over. By now he couldn’t stop roaring with laughter.  
Koschei started giggling as well before coughing violently.

Borusa stared down at his feet and examined the thick fumes escaping from the barred door closer.  
Until now he hadn’t realised that the door wasn’t bolted from the inside but blocked up from the outside.  
Only the smoke and the giggling would indicate that there were two Time Lords behind closed doors, serving their sentence.  
A rather peculiar sentence, really.

“Sometimes I just don’t understand you, Kosch,” groaned Theta as he could be heard exploring the floor on all fours. “Why do you do such stupid things?”  
“It’s not stupid, it’s just a bit… unorthodox,” Koschei defended himself.  
“Sticking a fork in your own hand is what I’d call _stupid_ ,” said Theta, hitting his head on a low shelf and bursting out laughing again.  
“At least I know where my head is going,” Koschei replied mockingly.  
“Yeah. Nailed to the floor,” gurgled Theta, “Another stupid thing to do. I don’t even know how that could have happened.”  
“It’s essential,” Koschei replied, “Essential to keep my mind from floating out of my skull, once it realizes that it’s no longer a slave to the force of gravity.”  
“Essentially weird,” giggled Theta and hit his head again on a low shelf.

Borusa shook his head and sighed quietly.  
The idea Koschei’s tutor had come up with had seemed so acutely educational.  
And Borusa wouldn’t have disagreed with him as they had locked up both Koschei and Theta after another incident of indecent behaviour.  
And it hadn’t seemed wrong to punish them by administering them the mind-expanding substances they had found in their possession…

His train of thought was cut off by some more laughter and a quiet thudding noise.  
Followed by some more giggling.

Borusa sighed.  
Well, until _now_.


	3. ...23 mutated pumpkins

_Slowly the Doctor turned around and closed the door as quietly as possible._  
_He turned at the sound of an old lawnmower being shoved against his will over a stubbly field._  
 _It was coming from the 3 rd door._  
 _The door swung back at the merest touch and the Doctor stepped forward, overlooking an autumnal field of red grass._  
 _He knew this place. The Academy’s vegetable garden._  
 _A place, where poor soldiers learned how to survive on their own until the war was over – even if it involved planting vegetables instead of fighting_.

“To all of us comes this day, this crucial moment in life when we will have to question our mere existence, look back upon our past critically and think about the future.”

“Hey…What are you doing…? I saw you move.”

“It will overthrow every concept, every tableau one has painted himself, depicting the order, the tidiness matter is naturally oppressed by.”

“There, you did it again…! I… Hey, stop! What? No, not my…”

“But what if the shelves, the library, as it is frequently known as, exists only in our minds?”

“Koschei, there’s something wrong with this pumpkin patch… No, you don’t…!”

“An order, created to find a concept of regulation, of beauty, as most people refer to it.”

“Hey, these are _my_ carrots! What are you doing… Stop, no!”

“So suppose this was and cosy tidiness we found ourselves surrounded by…”

“Not my peas…it took me years to get the right colour.”

“…was nothing but a farce.”  
“The radishes! No, I had to regenerate twice to get the seeds from this stupid planet. Where are you going?”

“A safety, created to feel secure. We find hope where we search for it. Or, as the old saying goes…”

“Bad pumpkin, bad pumpkin!”

“’A cat might have been at the end of the fishing rod of life, if you had stuck a mouse on the hook.”

“You… pumpkin, you! Hey, let go off the hoe! I said let go! No!”

“Are you done interrupting me?”

Theta looked up at an annoyed Koschei while the last broken of the hoe disappeared into the pumpkin’s mouth. “I think it’s rather rude of you to interfere with my elaboration.”  
Out of the corner of his eyes Theta saw the twines crawling down the ravished potato field.

“I mean how can I make myself clear to you if you wouldn’t listen?”

The Pumpkin continued its journey, stopping only to gobble up a lost beet it had missed during its first attack.

“Have I made myself clear?”

Theta looked around, his gaze drifting over the ruined land, sprinkled with bits of sticky vegetable goo. He observed the dug up fields, the bitten through gardening tools and the pumpkin slowly disappearing in the nearby woods.  
His shoulders sagged as he sighed.  
“Yes, Koschei.”

“Well, then,” Koschei straightened up and laid an arm around Theta’s shoulders, guiding his footsteps back to the Academy’s sheds.  
“Say, have I told you about my latest experiment involving cucurbit-based life forms?”


	4. ...22 hours of nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, dark chapter ahead!

_The Doctor blinked.  
Barely he remembered escaping the gap of reality, absenting himself from the snippet of his own past trapped inside his TARDIS._

_Dreamily he’d wandered out, the smell of red, wet grass still clogging up his sinuses, beguiling his thoughts. He couldn’t remember ever having felt so happy, so comfortingly light-headed._  
_He felt young again._  
 _No, he didn’t_ feel _young, the Doctor corrected himself as the awaking rational thoughts dripped back into his mind and chased away the last fluffy pink clouds of cosiness._

 _He felt like he ought to have felt when he’d been young. Just enjoying life as it was, feeling, breathing, being in his best years without the emotional hurly-burly and the mental insecurity._  
_This is how being young should feel, the Doctor mused._  
 _This is how youth should smell._

_Old. Marginally mouldy.  
And slightly burnt._

_The Doctor sniffed, his eyes focussing on the door in front of him.  
He recognised the smell, sensed the twinge at the back of his mind, breathed in deeply to feel how the dreadful smell, the stench wrenched at his nerves and dragged the dark memories back into the bright light of consciousness._

_The Doctor closed his eyes and held his breath.  
The door opened in front of him._

_The mouldy smell had faded away, was reduced to a distant afterglow of the beauty of adolescence.  
The sickening smell of the air, the stink of all ungodly things._

_The Doctor opened his streaming eyes, blinking away the stinging pain of the toxic air._  
No, it was not air. It had stopped being air years ago.  
It was gas.  
It was neurotoxic blood gas, every lungful a lethal dosage.

And yet it smelled of tin, of sooty metal and burnt flesh.  
Flesh and blood.  
Still warm.

Theta shuddered as he stared at the mess at his feet.  
He continued on his path, the path he’d chosen in the confusion of the unexpected strike, the TDD, the Top Down Death.

Gas. Now they were using gas.  
Again.

Theta inched his way forward, ankle-deep in mud and…

He tried to look away before stun grenade hit.  
Too late.  
He swayed, collapsing to his knees, crawling on his stomach.  
He needed to advance faster, he was almost there, he knew that Koschei was around here somewhere, he knew that he was there, he just _knew_ it…

Theta tried to cough and reached for his gasmask, feeling the structure, searching for the gap, the small, deadly gap that ought to be somewhere here.  
Or he was just running out of oxygen…

His body prevailed over every protesting muscle and Theta was back on his feet, running, running and never stopping.

And he remembered the one thing he’d learned so soon:  
When you trip, when you fall, move on.  
Don’t _look_.

He knew that he’d dropped his weapon, but armed fighting had lost all meaning. He was defenceless anyway, his mind running on overload.  
He was so close, he could feel it, he could see him, yes, he knew that it was him, he knew that it was Koschei, he just _knew_ …!

Theta tripped and stumbled forward, supporting the aching mass his body had become against the remains of a roasted tree.

He’d found Koschei, had found him among all the others.  
There was no face, just a mask, the empty gas mask that equalized them.  
But they weren’t equals.

Theta _looked_.  
In the terror of the early hours, in the dark destruction that surrounded him he just stopped and looked.  
He saw his grin. He saw the smirk upon his face.  
He heard him laughing.  
And the grin kept broadening as he turned to face him.

In his eyes the fire was still burning.  
Raging with inexhaustible thanatomania.

And Theta kept looking until his bones gave way and his system collapsed under the pressure of the past weeks.


	5. ...21 peculiar snow-globes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is Traditional Gaily speaking.  
> Thanks for sticking with the story so far.  
> This chapter will be a little more silly to lighten the mood after the atrocities DoctorDalek had suprised you with in the previous chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy what you're reading and thanks to all of you who left kudos!

_Miraculously the door shut itself as soon as the Doctor had left the room silently._

_Without even daring to think of anything, anything that seemed inappropriate right now, the Doctor turned to face the next door._   
_As the Doctor advanced he noticed the water leaking from under the door._   
_He pushed it open. And slammed it shut again in an instant._

Snowflakes still cascading from his shoulders, Borusa cursed in long forgotten-tongues, as he freed himself, mumbling and nearly tripping, from the five capes he had been wearing.  
“An outrage!” he thought out loud, “There’s not been such a storm since at least two eons!”

It had puzzled all of the faculty members. Storms and snow was quite well known on Gallifrey, but most of the time, it stayed where it belonged: in the mountains.  
But somehow in this seasonal cycle the snow had decided to spare the harsh and unfriendly Alps, overthrowing not only their snow-based tourist attraction which is best observed with a moderately warm potato and all the snow you can eat, but had headed for the centre.

“I understand the Citadel had been built to protect ourselves against a Dalek invasion but I had almost been sure it would keep out this ungodly weather.”  
Approving murmur ran through the council, only slightly muffled by the blankets they had cozied themselves into and interrupted by the infrequent clinking of teaspoons being vigorously rattled in some boiling beverage.

“I checked with the institute on Seismic Manipulation and the Cloud Enhancement Committee. They are all as baffled as we are.”  
“Maybe one of their clumsy students has dropped the bottle of distilled north wind again. Last time, they simply tried to cover it by a carpet.”  
“Perhaps the Ice Warriors are working on a new plan to conquer Gallifrey.”

“All because of a Sontaran spilling a drink on an ambassador and a Time Lord making a saucy remark at a party no-one can remember,”the dean of Morphic energy moaned.  
“It was one of them new students. From this strange fishy race,” the head-theologian of Pre-Deian-Philosophy whispered into the ear of his seatmate, whose enraged tentacle snatched the saucer right from under his cup.

“Perhaps the north wind has changed.”  
“Nonsense, these are east-west- and south winds teaming up together.”  
“Repent!” squeaked the First Priest of Intellectual infamy who, due to an unfortunate regeneration incident was now possessing the body of a lemming.

“Gentlemen,” the chairman tried to appease the situation as two of his bickering colleagues had regenerated for the fourth time, some professors had declared war at each other’s faculty and the octophilean professor was holding the head-theologian by his nose with sugartongs.  
A glass missed the chairman’s head by an inch and burst into glistening shards on the wall behind him.  
“And women,” he added quickly.  
A series of thuds, followed by gay outbursts of “Yippee” silenced the faculty meeting in an instant.

“Can someone please bring up the decency to tell those stupid students to stop skiing on the main building’s roof?” added the chairman wearily.

The bickering grew louder again as Theta pulled himself away from the door. On tiptoe he hurried back to Koschei’s room.  
“They haven’t got the slightest idea,” he declared once he’d shut the door and made sure no one was listening.  
“Mh?”  
Koschei was sitting at his table, watching his snow globe with interest.  
Theta sat down beside him, their gazes are fixed to the gently drifting snowflakes.  
The small, white pieces settled on the miniature replica of the Citadel.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel?” Theta warned as Koschei reached out for the snow globe.  
“Do _you_?” he asked while picking it up.  
Theta paused for a moment.

“No,” he declared and turned the snow globe upside down, carefully sending a storm of flakes to the wing where the faculty meeting was held.

Enraged screams and curses protruded from the meeting room where the windows had burst and the snow-covered faculty members pushed one another to be the first one to reach their warm studies.

“Do you think they will suspect?”  
“No,” Koschei added and gave the snow globe one vigorous shake.


	6. ...20 hatching myths

_The Doctor shuddered, brushing the last surviving snowflakes off his shoulders._  
_He turned as he felt the heat radiating from the next door._  
 _To his surprise he found thin curls of smoke drifting from under the door._  
 _Without giving it another thought he pushed it open._

Fire. Everything was on fire.  
The thick, almost palpable smoke, making it impossible to depict which in direct they were heading.  
“Leave it!”  
“No!” The shrieked reply transmuted into a persistent cough.

‘The Blaze’ they used to call it. The parched fields and meadows waiting for a spark. One spark that would set them alight, a withered scenery would burst into a fiery bloom.  
Dry leaves combusting, wilting flowers evaporating under the heat and pressure of the consuming force, the secret sixth season, which gives life to nature by obliterating every living being.

Against the almost hot-white background there were two blurred figures, lost in the smoke.  
One kept falling behind. It seemed to be carrying something.  
“Leave it here!” Koschei commanded but added desperately, “Please!” as he saw Theta’s defiant glare.  
“Cant’,” Theta stammered between coughs.  
“We can’t take it with us,” Koschei yelled as Theta’s grip tightened around the shell.  
The air filling their lungs seemed to get hotter by the minute and both could feel the white heart of the Blaze ravishing its way towards them.  
Koschei caught Theta before he tripped.

“Please!” he begged and looked at the egg Theta was carrying protectively.  
Theta closed his eyes, tears no longer forming on his cheeks but evaporating.  
“I can’t he declared,” he declared.

Koschei’s attack came so quickly, leaving Theta not only defence- but speechless as well as the egg was snatched out of his arms and hurled into the consuming flames.  
Koschei grabbed the protesting and screaming Theta and dragged him, despite his curses and blows, towards a nearby tree.

The crackling of the fire ceased, the sudden silence deafening their ears.  
The ground started to shake and trembled. There was the call of a bird growing louder.  
And almost icy-cold started to spread as the fire was sucked into the core, the flames disappearing into the centre of the Blaze.

There was a sharp but vigorous scream declaring the triumph over the flames as two enormous wings of fire reached for the sky.  
‘The birth of a phoenix’, Koschei told Theta.  
Dancing flames shaped a large head, its eyes focussing for a split-second on the two scorched figures, before the creature’s beak opened, calling out once more.

The phoenix took flight, the flames trailing behind it.

“You could have told me,” Theta broke the silence on their way back to the Academy.  
“Could have told you what?” Koschei asked, brushing the still falling ash off his burnt clothes.  
“That it wouldn’t harm the creature,” Theta burst out, almost choking on his tears.  
“That we had saved it; that you didn’t kill the poor unborn bird; that it was a phoenix’ egg!” Theta panted while Koschei had slowed to a halt.

Just for a moment. But he had seen it.  
A flicker in Koschei’s eyes had told him.  
A doubt.  
“You were not sure,” Theta whispered.  
“I was positive,” Koschei defended himself, “Besides you wouldn’t have given it to me willingly either way.”  
“Well, what did you expect? Me, running off and hurling myself into the sea, and my last breath floating to the surface, forming eggs before my body is reborn as a centrepiece on a weird gothic construction?” Theta panted.

Koschei watched him thoughtfully.  
“You have a twisted mind,” he declared, “And that’s coming from me.”  
As they continued their walk home, Koschei turned to Theta once more.  
“You fancy something fried?” he asked.  
“I don’t want to see it,” Theta replied instantly.  
“ _As soon as we get back home_ , is what I meant to say,” Koschei added with a smirk on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, TraditionalGaily again.  
> I just wonder: Did anyone get the reference to a certain angelic anime?


	7. ...19 painful headaches

_The Doctor couldn’t help wondering what would happen to the scenery, to the memory he was allowed a differentiated glimpse at, if he dared to wait long enough._   
_The result had been both disappointing and deflating: nothing happened._   
_Sooner or later the scenery would run out of trees, the Doctor would bump into invisible walls or the image simply faded to a darker tone until the Doctor was lost in darkness._   
_Then a door would appear; the door he’d entered through._

_So, cursing himself for his own lack of unimaginativeness, the Doctor wandered through the corridor, trying to pick the right door._   
_Which was rather easy: every door was the right door. The signs all looked different from a certain distance, but up close they stated all the same number._   
_7 th._   
_7 days have already passed? the Doctor wondered. Hopefully the TARDIS would stay on standby. The Doctor didn’t even dare imagine what would happen to him if he stayed here while his ship ran out of power…_

_So, with nothing else to do, and no other choice available, the Doctor gripped another handle and once more pushed back the door._   
_And was stunned by the familiar smell of laundry detergent._

They had only been allowed new bedding at numbered occasions.  
The most common one would be a new student enrolling in the Academy. Then they were allowed clean linen, or at least bed linen. Once you’d been there you’d know the difference…  
And there was, of course, the other common way: your death.  
When you died, irrespective of the circumstances, you were granted a new bedding.  
Incidentally it wasn’t you, who were granted new sheets; actually it was a new student enrolling and inheriting your bed.  
This phenomenon is best known as “circle of linen”.

And then there were temporary reasons…

“Ouch.”

“I told you to hold still,” Koschei sneered at Theta who rubbed his temples irritated.  
“That hurt,” Theta whined as he shot Koschei a punitive glare.

Prior to this Koschei had decided to pay his sick friend a visit.  
He’d been informed that Theta was suffering from a rare disease and that he was feeling rather poorly.  
Therefore he greeted his sick friend:  
“I never even knew that dullness was a rare disease.”

Theta threw a pillow at his face. “Drop dead,” he replied in a muffled voice while pulling the scarf away, which had been covering most of his face.  
“And don’t get too comfortable there,” Theta added defiantly as Koschei was about to sit down on his bed, “The sheets just got cleaned and I want them to stay that way as long as possible.”  
Koschei nodded absent-mindedly. Then he snuggled closer to Theta who rolled his eyes.  
“You never listen, do you?” he mumbled under his breath.

“Sorry,” Koschei managed to say without even the slighted hint of an apology, “My mind’s been wandering again.”  
Theta folded his arms.  
“It’s just not natural,” Theta grumbled, “your mind ought to stay put where it belongs: inside your own skull.”

Koschei sniggered. “You’re just jealous because, unlike you, I know how to establish mental bonds.”  
Theta harrumphed barely audible. He shot Koschei a death-glare as he wouldn’t stop sniggering.

Koschei moved closer.  
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to learn how to do it?” Koschei asked sweetly. Tenderly he reached for Theta’s temples.  
“No,” replied Theta icily, “and keep your greasy paws off me, I’m still contagious.”

“Now hold still,” Koschei declared firmly while resting his forehead against Theta’s.

The next moment Theta opened his eyes to find his brain on fire as white-hot wires were running through his mind, electrocuting him alive.  
He winced. And opened his eyes _again_.

And there he was, back in his bed, feeling disturbingly unaltered.  
“Ouch,” Theta mumbled again.  
“I told you to hold still.”  
“That hurt.”

“But I felt you,” Koschei said with a smug smile that really put Theta off.  
“I guess it’s already disgusting enough without having you to make lewd comments about it, thank you very much,” Theta replied hurriedly. He tried to massage some life back into his temples.

“But I really felt you,” Koschei went on. He ran his fingers through Theta’s hair. “I saw your thoughts and your mind, saw the silvery little spark of life. Of your life. I saw _you_.”  
He kissed Theta on the forehead.  
“So you’re not a virgin anymore.”

“I’m not a virgin!” Theta burst out before adding hastily, “What’s that got to do with virginity anyway?”  
“You had an untouched mind,” Koschei replied, adding with a smirk on his face, “And I was the first to enter it. I felt you pure and unspoilt thoughts.”  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” groaned Theta before shoving another pillow into Koschei’s face to spare himself the sight of his widening grin.

“What did it feel like?” Koschei went on after they’d sat there in comforting silence.  
Theta shrugged.  
“Come on,” Koschei went on, “You must have felt something.”  
“It wasn’t that big,” Theta replied. It only took a short moment of realization before Thea blushed.  
Koschei couldn’t bite back a chuckle.

Theta folded his arms again.  
“It was short, it was painful and it tickled in a way that I dare not even talk about,” Theta stated, “And if you treat me to another one of your perverted little grins I’m going to rip your head off!”  
Koschei kissed him on the forehead again before getting back to his feet.  
“I won’t keep you,” he explained but as he headed for the door he couldn’t help adding: “But I could make you some breakfast.”

He ducked in time to watch the pillow whirring past his head.  
Followed by Theta’s tea mug.


	8. ...18 love-crazed marsupials

_The Doctor hummed quietly as he sat in the corridor, waiting for another door to become apparent._  
_Quite literally._  
_He’d spotted the outlines of a door, a very crude silhouette of a primitive door-ish construction._  
_But when he’d approached said form he was surprised to find the door not locked but not there._  
_Right now it was nothing more than a blurred contour; the Doctor wasn’t even able to focus on it._  
_It remained a raw door. The idea door._  
_And it looked as if it had been painted on the wall._

 _“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” the Doctor remarked, daring his ship to make an honest reply.  
But the TARDIS continued its constant, unaffected drum. Its _ humdrum _, as the Doctor liked to call it._

_“You know, what really bothers me?” the Doctor went on while leaning against the cold wall._

_The Doctor took a closer look at the door._  
_The doorknob was… moving. But staying in the same place all the time. Though it looked as if it was becoming realer by the minute._  
_When he reached for the doorknob once more it turned under his fingers._  
_It felt cold and hot at the same time._

 _“It’s a paradox,” the Doctor mumbled as he squatted down to treat the knob to a scrutinizing glare after realising that his sonic screwdriver was still missing._  
_“It’s both new and old. It holds the fiery heat of newly forged metal while it displays a coldness, an ancient coldness from when elements were just beginning to take shape. Oh, it burns and is freezing at the same time,” the Doctor ran his inquisitive fingers over the knob. Absentmindedly he smiled._  
_“Tickles,” he mumbled. Then his gaze rose._  
_“And don’t tell me you still think everything is alright,” the Doctor monished the TARDIS._

 _The door swung back slowly with an ominous creaking sound._  
_“Oh, still dark inside,” the Doctor whispered while approaching the space, which was still takin shape, “You’re still working on what I’m going to be confronted with today, eh?”_  
_Then he took a step forward._

And slammed the door behind him.  
He took a deep breath.  
What followed might have been the primal scream itself, considering that Time Lords can manage to life for an eternity.

“KOSCHEI!”

Koschei’s face slowly appeared from behind the book it had been hidden behind.  
He treated Theta to a broad grin.  
“How may I be of assistance?”

A ball of fur was thrust into his lap. He picked it up carefully as it began to purr.  
“Ah, _Didelphis Adenium_ , a desert opossum,” Koschei remarked craftsman like.  
“ _Your_ desert opossum!” corrected Theta, “And it was in _my_ room again.”  
“Oh surely you can’t be mad at a harmless little fellow like this one, can you?” said Koschei while stroking his pet, “look at those innocent little eyes.”

“He’s not as innocent as he seems,” added Theta and folded his arms, “He was humping the opossum I was supposed to look after.”  
Koschei stared at his opossum. It looked back with a meek expression.  
The same playful, unblameable expression, thought Theta grudgingly.    
“Maybe your opossum smelled nice,” Koschei hazarded.  
“It’s a male opossum,” Theta wailed.  
“Maybe it smelled _extremely_ nice,” Koschei went on.

Theta sat down beside him and started poking his shoulder.  
“Why?”  
“Why what?” asked Koschei, trying to shove Theta away.  
“What makes you think that he might have smelled nice?” Theta insisted.

Koschei hesitated.  
“Because I couldn’t help noticing the Latin _Adenium_ in the name, you know, the desert rose, so I was curious what might happen if I exposed it to its fragrance.”  
“And?” Theta demanded.

“And it definitely made your opossum more attractive, at least in the nose of my opossum.”  
“You did what?” Theta jumped back to his feet, “Why didn’t you try it on _your_ opossum?”  
“How could I?” Koschei asked and thrust his opossum’s face into Theta’s.

Theta stared at it furiously.

As the opossum started to smirk one of Koschei’s smirks Theta finally snapped and snatched it out of Koschei’s unresisting fingers to throw it at his face.

“I HATE YOU KOSCHEI!”


	9. ...17 perplexed lab rats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DoctorDalek speaking.  
> This chapter contains quotes from my favourite child-hood movies. Feel free to spot them and spoil the others!

_The Doctor toppled over and out of the room as the door gave way under his weight._

_As he turned around he could barely make out the outlines of the disappearing door.  
The Doctor scratched his head while he ran his fingers over the closing gap where, until now, the hinges had been._

_“It’s not only a paradox,” the Doctor mumbled, “It must be some kind of…temporarily dislocated elapsed reality. A bit of history cut out of my own time line. If only I knew what caused it.”_  
_The Doctor sighed while he listened to the soothing humming of his ship._  
_“And it would be a lot easier if I was equipped with my screwdriver which you haven’t rebuilt in the last nine days, thanks for nothing,” he growled at the ceiling in general_.

_He barely winced at the electric shock from the lamp directly above him, striking his head.  
“Alright, point taken,” the Doctor mumbled while massaging some life back into his temples, “I get it, you’re as overstrained as I am.”_

_“So, what’s this then, eh?” the Doctor mused mockingly as he strutted towards another door appearing randomly along the corridor, “Another shameful part of my life? Oh, don’t tell me. It’s gonna be my 213 th birthday again, where they locked me in a wardrobe and threw it out of a window. Or worse, my graduation, where they got all those lizards and spikes…”  
Involuntarily the Doctor hat stepped through the door and was now staring at the biggest mechanical monstrosity he’d ever clapped eyes on._

“Koschei, what is that thing?”

Theta stared in bewilderment at his friend, who busied himself with adjusting a few wheels here, a new cone there.

Three minutes, and a few adjusted straps later, Theta was squirming in a chair right next to the machine under construction.  
“Koschei, what are you doing?” Theta growled, “Get that thing off me!”  
“All in good time,” Koschei replied calmly. To Theta’s annoyance he kept whistling under his breath. And it wasn’t in the least way reassuring that he was talking to the round thing beside him, covered by a cloth.

“It’s a test, Theta. Nothing to be worried about,” Koschei tried to appease him.  
Theta drummed his fists on the chair’s arms. “I don’t want to be part of another of your tests, Koschei,” Theta complained, “Remember last time? I couldn’t sleep for days and every time I closed my eyes I saw the dancing mongooses.”  
“That was something else,” Koschei replied, instantly dismissing Theta’s accusations, “This time you don’t have to worry.”

“Seriously, Kosch, I don’t want to be your lab rat anymore,” Theta added hurriedly as Koschei adjusted a globe to his head.  
“Oh, you’re not my lab rat,” Koschei corrected him before pulling away the cover of the cage beside Theta.  
Theta looked to and fro between Koschei and the disinterested rodent.  
“So why do you need me anyway?” Theta asked worriedly as the rat rose on its hind legs and sniffed the air.

“For health and safety,” Koschei replied while rearranging some of the tapes and cogwheels.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Theta snapped, petrified by those two little beady rodent eyes.

“Mh?” Koschei turned. He faced Theta with a wondering smile on his lips. “I didn’t know you were still paying attention,” he replied, “You seem too occupied by my little friend’s presence.”

“Koschei, if I get out of this alive, I swear to you, I’ll rip your head…!” Theta screamed at Koschei, who patted his hands and silenced him with a cloth stuffed inside of his mouth.  
“‘If’, is indeed the case,” he added while pressing a button on a make-shift control panel. A small porthole opened up in the ceiling of Koschei’s room.  
“Just a little added lunar power to enhance the mind-waves,” Koschei stated levelly before he used the switch beside Theta’s head.

Theta held his eyes tightly shut as he felt his mind exposed to the full force of gravity, a strange suction building up inside of his head as every thought, every memory of his past life not only flashed before his mind’s eye but seemed to swirl out of his ears and mix with another substance, another existence, another _living thing_.  
There were colours and smells and things living inside invisibility itself.  
And the great white light was drawing closer and closer, charring every raw thought, every idea inside his mind, which was slowly building up to infinity…

Theta’s eyes snapped open as he’d heard the exalted cry for freedom.  
He sniffed and watched Koschei with mild disinterest as he tried to put out the flames that were coming from his machine.

The little rodent stared at Theta in shocked silence.  
Then it smacked its lips. It stared down at its paws.  
And then it…

“That rat just winked at me,” Theta blurted out, trying to point a shaking finger at the rodent in question but only managed to point at the curtains on the other side of the room.  
“Of course it did,” growled Koschei as he picked pieces of burst metal and splinters of burnt wood out of his clothes, “Will you look at that? It’s ruined.”

Theta treated the rat to another scrutinizing stare.  
It started shaking uncontrollably before slumping down.  
“The butter must have been right, but maybe the tea was too strong,” Koschei mumbled while scratching his head.

Eventually he turned around to release Theta from his current position, mostly because he couldn’t stand Theta’s smug smile.  
And since Theta wouldn’t stop grinning like a maniac at the malfunctioning machine he shoved him out of the room without saying another word.

“Poor thing,” Koschei mumbled while patting the cage with the twitching rat inside, “But it would have been too cruel anyway.”  
He squatted down in front of the cage and offered the little irritated rodent a rasher of bacon.  
“A brain of a Time Lord trapped inside a rat’s body…I ask you, what for?”

Koschei sighed while taking his monstrous machine to pieces.

If only he’d looked closer he would have noticed the tiny calculations the rat was drawing on the bottom of the cage with a piece of charcoal.  
But it was clever enough to hide its newly acquired writing implement behind its back and twitch its nose at Koschei whenever he moved in its direction.


	10. ...16 woodland creatures

_The Doctor wandered aimlessly through the corridor, peeking around edges, in search for a way out._  
_“Don’t even think that I’ll spend the rest of my life in here,” the Doctor warned the TARDIS as he listened to her reproachful humming._  
_“Another century spent in solitude and I’m going to snap,” he mumbled to himself before he kicked a wall in frustration._

_“Come on! Just do something! I need company. Time Lords aren’t meant to be on their own, they get lonesome. And we all know what happened the last time…”_

_The TARDIS seemed to ignore the Doctor’s ranting and slowly dimmed the lights._  
_“Oh no, that won’t do this time, I’m far too angry to calm down just because you’re…!” the Doctor began but stopped as he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with air that smelled like better days, like a memory you cherished until the end of your life, like happiness itself._

_A door was flung open, yanking at its hinges._

It was the crisp smell of snow, of frozen lakes and fallen leaves covered in rime.  
A small squirrel scurried over the cold earth, its tiny paws leaving a treacherous trail.  
Far in the distance and high above the ground a crow was disturbed and fluttered over the icy branches before emphasizing its discontent by crowing.

A deer strutted over the romantically white meadow and raised its head, clouds of steam rising from its nostrils.

And Theta failed to take all that in because he hadn’t eaten in two days, was freezing and was completely lost.  
He’d planned to gain more insight into the social behaviour of wildlife species.  
Apparently it consisted of hunting and eating smaller specimen than yourself, fleeing and hiding from everyone who happened to be bigger than you and mating with everything roughly your size and shape.  
And, of course, eating an innocent Time Lord’s provisions.

Theta shuddered while treading over the scarce remains of an owl.  
He’d never imagined wildlife to be so cruel. Well, he’d know that it was cruel, but he hadn’t expected it to be cruel to _him_.  
Also he hadn’t slept for days (for fear of becoming either an involuntary breeding partner or lunch) and he slowly realised why you couldn’t survive without sleep:  
You knew that you’d definitely do something stupid. It was either eating the poisonous red berries on the ground, because you couldn’t resist them any longer and were too unaware of your instincts, or talking to the trees and bushes and combing their branches.  
Or just lie down in the snow to finally regenerate and hope, that this time you got any sense of direction.

Which was, if you looked at it with a mind suffering from sleep deprivation, an excellent idea.

Theta stopped and sat down on a frozen tree trunk.  
The sooner he died, the sooner he’d get to regenerate. And maybe the regeneration-energy would melt the snow around him and then he’d finally be able to find his way home because water would always flow downstream and therefore he’d know in which direction the next valley was…  
And the happy madness of one who was so tired that he was getting perked up from the wrong side he totally ignored the tiny voice inside of his head which told him that lying down in the snow was one of the dumb things he’d wanted to avoid by doing it.

But the voice soon stopped at the sight of the other strained faces of the rest of the company inside of Theta’s head and so it decided to let Theta dream the dream of the soon regenerating (which, for some reason, always involved chittering birds and bright skies).

And a fire in front of you.

Theta blinked and stared at the source of warmth in front of him. As he tried to sit up, shaking the blanket from his shoulders, his gaze fell upon the trail of blood in front of him.  
And the cleaved knuckles. And the stag’s face, displaying an expression of mild surprise.

“Drink that. It will keep your warm. And sit down again, you’ll catch your death.”  
Theta’s gaze rose until his eyes were level with Koschei’s.  
Wordlessly he took the cup from his hands.  
“Ow,” Koschei pulled back his fingers at the touch of Theta’s skin, “your body temperature must be sub-zero.”

Theta sipped the tea, still staring at the stag’s head.  
“How can you think of all these things?” Koschei asked quietly while splitting the deer’s crus.  
“Mh?” Theta asked dreamily. Slowly, and thanks to the heat of the beverage, he was waking up again for real.  
“Your stupid ideas. Who goes hiking without proper equipment? You’re lucky I found you in time.”  
“I had proper equipment,” Theta protested. Or, in fact, _tried_ to protest. His head felt heavier than ever before. What he thought to be a contradiction turned out to be a faint whisper.  
“Where is it?” Koschei asked.  
Theta shrugged.  
“I lost it.”  
“Then it wasn’t proper equipment anyway,” Koschei replied, “And now move, I’m getting cold.”

Quietly he sat beside Koschei, resting his head on his shoulder.  
“Of all the stupid things you can do out in the wilderness…” Koschei mumbled.  
‘And what are you doing here?’, Theta tried to ask but his vocal chords failed him.  
“Deer hunting,” replied Koschei.  
‘I never thought you to be much of hunter’, grumbled Theta voicelessly while sharing the same frequency as Koschei’s mind so he didn’t need to verbalize his thoughts.  
“That’s because you were even too stupid to realize that I’ve been preying on you for a very long time,” Koschei chuckled.  
His hands brushed over Theta’s thighs.

‘I hate you,’ Theta replied wordlessly and shot Koschei a challenging glare.  
“You can save the swearing for later,” Koschei whispered into Theta’s ear before he grabbed him, hauled him over his shoulder and dragged him into the tent beside the campfire.

And again poor Theta was robbed of his sleep.  
But at least it felt comfortable.


	11. ...15 nights under canvas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, me (DoctorDalek) again. In this chapter I was referencing one of my favourite songs from AIR.  
> Also, I have to inform you that there’s going to be mild smut in this chapter.  
> Alright not too mild. But definitely smut.

_“Alright, that’s enough,” the Doctor made a run for the door and slammed it shut instantly.  
Only after leaning against the wood the Doctor dared to breathe again._

_He remembered what had happened during that night._  
_He knew what would have followed…_  
_“I never knew that you could quit one of those,” the Doctor mumbled as he noticed that even behind his back the door was already dissolving._  
_“But at least it’s over now,” he added a wee bit satisfied and walked through the next appearing door with frolicsome happiness._

_It wasn’t until the moment that he heard the snow crunching under his feet that he realized that life, sometimes, is a dog of the female persuasion (or so they say)._

Inside of the tent Theta was restless. Mostly because Koschei wouldn’t stop bothering him.

“How do you feel?”

Theta turned over in his make-shift bed and grumbled crotchety.  
Koschei persisted: “How do you feel knowing that we’re all alone here, far from any semblance of civilisation, and that no one can hear you, no matter how loud you scream. So, how does it make you feel?”

Koschei prodded Theta gently but repeatedly with a stick in his abdominal region.  
“Well Kosch, I really think you should quit smoking these fluorescent mushrooms,” Theta growled, “Anything that glows that bright has to be lethal.”

Theta turned.  
At which point he realized that it hadn’t exactly been a _stick_ he’d been bothered by. Though he had to admit that _it_ was really sticking out.

“Don’t even think about it,” Theta warned as he cut off Koschei who’d barely managed to open his mouth. Koschei, ignoring Theta’s interruption, put his head on one side and smiled dismissively at Theta.

“Let me put it this way,” Koschei explained while he grabbed Theta forcefully, “You, on the one hand, are worn out, tired, at the end of your tether, hungry, half frozen, defrosted again, devastated, mentally unstable, deadbeat and exhausted… and, well, on the other hand, there’s _me_.”

Having said that, Koschei dragged Theta into his lap, his arms tightly wrapped around Theta’s chest to keep him in a, rather uncomfortable, sitting position.

“Kosch, you’re going to regret this,” Theta wheezed while he tried to shove Koschei’s avaricious hands away.  
“Never promise anything that you can’t live up to,” Koschei whispered into Theta’s ear, moistening his neck with his warm breath, “You’re a disappointment, as always.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m not as virile and full of beans as you are,” hissed Theta.  
“Oh, you don’t have to be sorry,” Koschei went on, “I’d be pleased if you’d just hold still and keep your mouth shut for a minute.”  
“So you don’t like dirty talk?” Theta went on, amused to have found a way of pissing off Koschei.  
“That’s not dirty talk,” Koschei replied, visibly strained, as he’d popped a boner but was frustrated to find that he could make no use of it with an intractable Theta as his only hope of a soon release.

“I’m just saying…”  
“Shut up!” Koschei clamped a hand over Theta’s mouth before forcing him down on all fours.  
“And now hold still and for Kasterborous’ sake just once in your life do as you’re told!”

Small beads of sweat formed on Koschei’s forehead as he bared Theta’s derriere and thighs, pushing him down and thrusting against his soft skin excitedly.  
He let go off Theta’s pulsing lips cursed quietly as Theta bit into his hand, but it weren’t the hateful curses of rage; it were the sweet, lust driven verbalizations of expectation.  
Theta, on the other hand, placated Koschei subsequently by licking the small wound he’d drawn blood from, and sucking on his fingertips.

Koschei placed his palms on Theta’s shoulders while positioning his burning body.  
With a small grunt from Theta, answered by a soft moan from Koschei, their bodies intertwined, becoming one pulsing mass of limbs and groans.

Koschei penetrated Theta impulsively; he gave his urges free reign and simple pushed and shoved the twitching friend beneath him over the cooling blanket he’d been enwrapped in.  
Koschei’s pent-up, fierce energy didn’t last long; mere minutes had passed since he’d started his ferocious attack on Theta and already he collapsed on top of him, panting and sweating with his croup twitching and jerking while he climaxed, his limb still buried in his friend’s body.

Eventually Theta shrugged Koschei off, wincing as he felt the dripping hotness escaping from his small, threadbare cavity, and lying down on the fluffy blanket.  
“I hate you Koschei,” mumbled Theta quietly. He turned as Koschei didn’t seem inclined to answer back.  
As Theta turned he found his friend to be fast asleep already while he himself fought against the persistent vigil that would crop up when you were too to sleep anymore.

And so Theta kicked Koschei against the shin, until he’d move over and share the make-shift bed with him, and envisioned the most painful death traps for Koschei.


	12. ...14 baffled faculty-members

_With the 11 th door disappearing as soon as he had walked through it, the Doctor paused and sighed._   
_There was a short interlude of murmuring Gallifreyan curses, sighs and a lot of hair-ruffling before he straightened up and headed back to the control room. Well at least he tried to._   
_Somehow this new corridor twisted and turned, sometimes even went backwards when he tried leaving it. As for the door…_   
_Incidentally all the TARDIS’ doors had been marked 12 although the Doctor did not dare walking through one, on account of being thrown back into this paradox-reality, those random memories neatly arranged and compressed into one room._   
_A sigh of relief escaped the Doctor’s lips as he reached the control room. And control was what he needed right now, after those troublesome incidents of days long forgotten._   
_There was a knocking without._   
_The Doctor jumped to his feet, grabbing his coat and stormed right up to the TARDIS entrance where the source of the knocking had been located._   
_Satisfied, but most of all feeling needed, he stepped through it._   
_And it could all have been so well, had he not missed the 12 which had magically appeared above the door only seconds ago…_

There were snow-covered mountains against a cold gleaming sun. A strong wind tugged at the remaining branches of an old snow-covered tree on a snow-covered cliff.  
Yes, the snow…  
Due to a quite stunning experiment and the realisation that snow-globes could be mirroring a snow-storm hitting a small replica, or perhaps it was just the other way round, Gallifrey was afflicted by the most unpleasant winter any Time Lord (taking in consideration as well the ancient ones whose vocabulary seemed to be limited to “yes, yes”, “in my days…” and “what did he say?”) could remember.

A group of Time Lords were huddled together on a cliff observing in horror a rather curious phenomenon.

“It’s just not natural,” the vice-president of the unorthodox-time-distortion committee said, wrapping his six capes, the wind was tugging at, tighter around his body.  
“If Time Lords were meant to glide, we would have grown wings by now, or even wheels, but this…”  
The assembled committee was staring down the cliff watching the frozen sea and the ungodliness which took place on it.  
“Have they no dignity at all?” the professor of abstract-light-regulation asked accusingly and groaned. “And all this gay and joyous shouting.”

“We would have kicked them out. All of them, had they not disposed themselves of their robes.”  
“How is one supposed to tell these students apart if they are not wearing their robes?”  
“I told you we should have branded them the day they were initiated. Right on the forehead.”  
A murmur of agreement ran through the faculty-meeting.

“Perhaps the storm will blow them right out on the sea,” the vice-president mused.

“Can someone please help me holding back the First Priest of Intellectual infamy? You know he gets a bit edgy around cliffs.”

“Why have we brought him with us anyway?” the professor mused as they tied the twitching lemming to a stone.

As one they drew nearer to the edge.

“Say, has anyone seen the head-counsellor of perpetuated-misconception? I’m not quite sure he got the memo. Come to think of it, I have not seen him for days.”

The embarrassed coughs seized as the vice-president whose trembling finger pointed accusingly at a figure moving between the students.

“Blasphemy” the deacon of morphic-energy ejaculated in despair.

“Of all the things in the galaxy,” the professor of unprofitable-photonic-engineering stuttered, “nudism I would have understood…but ice-skating…”

As we draw nearer to the flowing mass of students and one quite happy-looking head-counsellor, one might notice almost instantly one pair moving a little odd, compared to the rest. That is, if it is moving at all and not lying, such as now, flat on their backs.

“Ouch,” Theta wailed as he got up unsteadily, still rubbing his back.  
“I told you, to let go off my arm.” Koschei was occupied by trying to remove the blade on his shoes from the ice in which it got bogged so he missed the rather offensive sign Theta flipped him.  
“And I told _you_ to bend your knees and flex your muscles while gliding over the ice. Geez, Koschei,” Theta snorted while pushing the hair out of his face, “Just relax and enjoy the day out.”

“How can I relax when you keep clinging to me?” Koschei snapped. Unsteadily he got back onto his feet again.  
“No, don’t do that, look,” Theta was up in a minute and sliding to his friend’s aid, “You need to spread your weight equally on your feet, just try to keep the balance. No, you’re spreading your legs again, keep them closed.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Koschei’s comment really had taken Theta by surprise. Eventually he sniffed at Koschei, turned around and glided a few feet before realizing that Koschei kept pace with him.  
“Stop following me!” Theta yelled over his shoulder.  
“I would, if you’d let me,” Koschei replied grudgingly, “your stupid scarf got entangled in my coat’s buttons.”  
Theta turned around, hands akimbo. Koschei smashed into him, forcing the two of them down onto the ice again.

“It’s not my fault, your stupid buttons got entangled in my scarf”, Theta roared, “And now get off me and piss off!”  
“I can’t!”  
“Take off your coat, Koschei!”  
“Why don’t you take off your scarf, you idiot. Why is your scarf this long, anyway?”  
“Because idiots like you keep pulling at it. And now get off me Koschei!”

As we leave the bickering friends and take a last look at the frolicsome students and the one faculty member who really got to enjoy his day off, we’re bound to notice the small, furry, lemming-like silhouette against the setting sun, which finally gave up retraining its instincts and was enjoying too the last rays of the sun, and possibly its last minutes as a lemming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Traditional Gaily again.  
> I just stopped by to thank you all for reading and sticking with the story.  
> If the previous chapters have not allready given it away, I must confess, I'm a big fan of Terry Pratchett. That's probabaly why the faculty meeting has evolved into something similar to the Unseen University. 
> 
> Writing this chapter brought me back to the days, when I went out with my friends ice-skating. Although I rember something funny about it.  
> During our time on the ice, which we only interrupted for short Tea-breaks, we established a certain order, some kin of list describing how strong one's friendship would be.  
> It started with kissing followed by going out but incidentially we declared ice-skating to be more intimate then sleeping with someone and therefore it being the closest thing to marrying someone.  
> Weird, I know...


	13. ...13 festive trimmings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else still working on putting up his Christmas decoration?

_The Doctor sighed. His feet had barely touched the floor of the corridor before he’d tripped and tumbled through a door magically appearing right in front of him. Well, ‘tis the season to be clumsy…_

“Koschei, what are you doing? Why are you in my room? And what’s _that_?”

Koschei turned around, unperturbed as always. He smiled at Theta the gentle smile of the mentally disturbed.   
Then he put a Christmas wreath over his head.

Theta shook his head, trying to dislodge the fir needles from the neck of his robe. But feeling the pricking, the itching farther down was even worse.  
“Now, hold still, you’re crinkling the bows,” Koschei admonished Theta while putting up another garland.  
“Koschei, I…” Theta began. But then his gaze fell upon the ornaments. And the white fur carpet imitating a snowy meadow. And the decorative trees, covered in glitter and artificial birds.  
And the garlands. And the fake fir festoon. And the fairy lights. And some more lights.

Theta pulled the wreath over his head and threw it at Koschei’s feet.   
“What in any God’s name are you _doing_?”  
“Making this room a haven of happiness and festivity,” Koschei replied smoothly, “Would you mind stepping over there a minute? I was just going to put up another decorative Yule Goat.”  
“What do you mean _another_?” Theta shrieked before he noticed the giant straw sculpture looming over him.  
“What is that thing?”

Koschei tstsked at his friend’s lack of cultural knowledge.   
“It’s a classical Norse symbol of…” Koschei began but got cut off by Theta:   
“What is a classical symbol of Norse culture doing in _my_ room?!”  
Koschei sighed. “You just don’t seem to be getting into the Christmas spirit.”  
“Why should I?” Theta asked while he pulled at the glittery garlands Koschei had wrapped around his closet, “I’m not even celebrating Christmas. We don’t have Christmas on Gallifrey.”  
“ _Now_ , we do,” Koschei replied calmly while sorting through the Christmas tree decorations.  
He picked up a nicely shaped antique glass mushroom. “And don’t waste your energy on trying to remove the decoration; it’s been nailed down in most of the places.”

Behind him there was a fleshy thudding sound followed by a muffled groan from Theta.  
“Oh, and some are well protected by traps,” Koschei added while picking up a golden vitreous acorn.   
“I hate you so much,” Theta grumbled while carefully removing the mousetrap from his foot.  
Then he folded his arms and glared at Koschei.  
Eventually Koschei felt obliged to turn around.   
“You’re missing the point,” Theta explained.   
“I am?” Koschei replied bemused.

Theta took a deep breath.   
“THIS IS MY ROOM! Don’t you understand Koschei? You can’t just sneak into someone else’s room and do as you please. You have to respect other people’s property and wills. You’re not welcome in this room and neither is your stupid decoration nor your Yule Mule or those idiotic birds on the seared branches and if you don’t put them away this minute I’m gonna throw them out of the window because they’re giving me the creeps!”

“If you press the little button on their backs they play a lovely tune,” Koschei replied unfazed. He sorted through another box of assorted decoration for Christmas trees.  
“Are you done?” he asked eventually without even bothering to turn around.

Theta sighed and squatted down beside him.   
“Yes,” he replied miserably. He looked over Koschei’s shoulder, visibly bored.  
“That’s an enormous amount of decoration. Must have taken a lot of time to put it all up.”  
“I hid a time-loop device in the corridor so I’ve been attending the same lesson for two days,” Koschei replied while rummaging in a box, “But thanks, I see that you really are appreciating my effort.”  
Theta didn’t listen. “This decoration…” he asked curiously, “Where did you get it all from?”  
Koschei thrust forward a little, shabby-looking cardboard box.

“You don’t want me to believe that all of this, including the giant straw monstrosity, fitted into that box?” Theta said while poking at the cardboard.

“Oh, I don’t care what you believe,” Koschei replied arrogantly, “Just watch.”

Koschei put the box on the floor.  
He reached down and grabbed something that appeared to be hidden in its recesses.  
He pulled.

Theta watched in bewilderment.

“That’s a fir tree! A whole, bloody fir tree with enormous branches! How did you get it in there?!” Theta wanted to know.   
“I didn’t put it in there I just took it out,” Koschei replied and took another look at the tree. “And it’s already been decorated. How convenient.”  
“But how did it fit inside?” Theta wondered.

Koschei shrugged.   
“Who knows? A Christmas miracle? I thought this always was the time of the year for kings to be born and saviours to be raised and exceptional stellar constellations to form inexplicably in the sky.”  
“But not every year,” Theta contradicted, “And on Earth only.”

Koschei shrugged again.   
“They get saviours and we get trees. Well, that’s fine by me,” and carefully he positioned the golden acorn on a low hanging branch.


	14. ...12 mugs of egg nog

_“Most peculiar”, the Doctor remarked as he removed the primitive mouse trap from his foot, which he had activated while leaving the previous room._  
_“Not my memory, my body moves within these walls.” Desperately he looked up at the ceiling._  
_“Can’t we just skip the next eleven days and go back to time-travel like in any normal Time Lord TARDIS symbiosis?”_  
_There was no reply, but the bright outlines of a door appearing._  
_“Thought so…” the Doctor mumbled bitterly as he walked into his pending humiliation._  
_It actually looked nice inside. There were candles, some rather tasteless decoration and candy canes. Those lovely walking stick shaped treats._  
_And the smell of…_

“Oh, shall I compare thee to a winter’s day? No more. Alas, your sweetly syrup pouring down my parched oesophagus revitalises my vanished strength.”

“Theta…”

“Oh how your sticky milk conquers my unresisting tongue to finally allay my thirst. How your precious drops sparkle in the sun, how your warm and hearty smell allure my senses…

“Theta, stop talking to your glass.” Koschei raised his hands in a futile attempt to shield his eyes from the dazzling lights, which he could have sworn had become more intense during his last drink.

There was the smacking of lips and an adoring sigh as the final droplets of a bottle were poured into Theta’s chipped mug reading ‘You don’t have to be a Time Lord to study hear, but it helps’ which is just the encouraging present every parent should give their children after a long and hard year of studying.  
After two fruitless attempts Theta finally grabbed the right mug, the physical one out of the spinning and dancing assemblage of quite similar looking but mainly transparent mugs.  
He shook his head disbelievingly.

“This ‘Nogg Egg’…”

“Egg Nog,” Koschei corrected, almost simultaneously hiccupping, which caused Theta to burst out laughing until he lost his balance and dropped to the floor.

“This Egg Noggggg…” Just one of Theta’s hands became visible, but instead of trying to pull the rest of his body, on which gravity was now playing quite unusual tricks, up it searched for the spilled mug and dragged it down at level with his head, which was in fact ground level.

“Yes…” Koschei replied unnerved, trying against all his knowledge of statics to build a house of cards with candy canes.

“Why is…it called…Egg Nog” Theta asked barely able to supress his giggling which Koschei knew could only mean, that he had thought of something ‘funny’.

“I don’t know,” Koschei moaned in a muffled voice, his head buried in his elbow. The lights were getting brighter by the minute.

“It’s because it knocks off your eggs,” Theta snorted with laughter but fell silent seconds later.  
“That was not very funny”, he mumbled finally regaining his senses of direction and climbing back onto his seat again.

The soft sound of paws with claws scurrying over the table made Koschei look up.  
So it had opened its combination lock sealed cage. Again.

“Oh, once more of your beguiling pleasures,” Theta versified shaking the empty bottle, for any sticky remains and opened a new bottle so vigorously, it made the bowl containing candy canes topple over.

Koschei sighed as Theta poured some more alcoholic beverage into their mugs.  
“How sweet your milky droplets may taste, how strong your…Koschei, was is that?”

Theta was pointing at the small dark spots whirling joyously inside his mug. Koschei inspected it, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw something grey and fuzzy sniffing excitedly at the spilled canes.

“Nutmeg,” Koschei said.

“Bless you,” Theta retorted.

Koschei looked his friend up and down, well basically down and even more down for his senses of direction were now taking a quick nap.  
He opened his mouth to say something when his attention got drawn to a gentle clicking noise.  
Apparently Theta had heard it too, for both of them stared in horror at the spilled candy canes and the small rat in front of them tapping its feet in a complicated manner.

“We are drunk.” Theta broke the silence as Koschei inspected his grey and furry friend up close.

“We must be.” Koschei stated.

“Because you know, considering that we were drunk…”

“What we most definitely are…”

“I could have sworn for just a second…”

“Seeing with the eyes of a drunk person obviously…”

“That this rat was tap-dancing.”

“Which must have been quite definitely an illusion,” Koschei remarked, lifting the rat up to eye level. To his discomfort it appeared to be winking.

There was silence.

“But you know the piece where it took the candy cane and swung it in an all too professional manner…”


	15. ...11 bits of pastry

_The Doctor sighed as he left yet another room.  
“I never realized just how annoying my time at the Academy must have been,” he sighed while looking for the next door knob that would turn beneath his touch, “And I don’t mean Koschei. Just my young, dim-witted self must have been an utter nuisance to everyone who has dealt with me. And back then I was so impatient and uncoordinated and smart-aleck and unreasonable and boisterous…”_

_This time the TARDIS could have protested. But she thought better of it and waited until the Doctor had disappeared behind another shining door before she hummed disapprovingly._

“No Koschei, not again.”

Theta dropped his books in the middle of his room. With the snowy-white carpet still covering the floor, nothing more than a quiet thudding sound emerged.  
“I didn’t say anything when you put up the Christmas tree and the garlands and the rest of the gimmick…”  
“Oh, if I remember correctly you did complain _a lot_ ,” Koschei responded quickly. The fact that he didn’t even bother to face Theta was a definitive sign of a lack of interest.  
“Because it’s my bloody room!” Theta wailed, “But enough is enough. I don’t know what you’re planning right now, but the answer is no. I don’t want to be a part of it. And I don’t want my room to play a part in it, too, so please, please, please get out.”

Theta folded his arms and waited.  
Eventually he let out a long drawn-out sigh as an unresponsive Koschei appeared to be still engrossed in whatever fiendish activity he was currently preparing for despite Theta’s begs and pleas.

So Theta tried to relax and have a lie-down on his bed.  
Which was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is my bed?” Theta asked wearily.  
“Mh?” Koschei barely took any notice.  
“You know, the rectangular thing, usually to be found near the window over there. It had sheets and pillows stuffed with feathers and so on, the usual things you’d suspect in a bed,” Theta babbled, visibly irritated.  
“Took up too much space,” Koschei replied eventually.  
Theta sat down in the middle of the floor. At least the fluffy rug was comfortable.

Theta sighed and curled up into a ball. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling.  
“And the rest of my furniture?” he asked eventually.  
“What furniture?” Koschei counter-questioned.  
“You know, my shelves, my closet, my writing desk…”  
“The writing desk is still there,” Koschei interrupted.  
Theta’s head rose. “Really? Where?”  
“I may have modified it a bit,” Koschei admitted.

Theta’s head disappeared again beneath the furry whiteness of the floor.  
“I just don’t know, Koschei,” he sighed after a while.  
“You just don’t know what?” Koschei asked.  
“I don’t know about this whole ‘Christmas’ thing… since when are you interested in seasonal celebration. What’s got into you?”

“I’m possessed,” Koschei replied. He arose from his seat and squatted down beside Theta.  
“By the Christmas spirit,” he went on and couldn’t bite back a chuckle.  
“Would appear so,” sighed Theta before giving Koschei a look of reproach. “Why are you doing this? Why does it have to be my room? Why can’t you do this somewhere else?”

There was a thudding noise as one decorative bird plummeted down from the tree.  
Both Koschei and Theta failed to notice the quiet pitter-patter of small feet.

“Because this is where I feel homely, where I can make myself comfortable,” Koschei replied sweetly, “Lying on that carpet and watching the glittering decoration, the fairy lights… makes me feel really cosy.” Koschei rubbed his head against Theta’s neck: “Especially when I get to snuggled up to you.”

“Oh no, we’re not having any of that,” Theta replied hurriedly while sitting up again, “And stop poking fun at me.”  
“Poking is, in fact, the word I was looking for…” Koschei replied and sniggered.

Before Theta could have said a word there was a crash as a festive yet fragile wooden doll became acquainted with gravity.  
Theta caught a glimpse of a small figure hurrying through the furry carpet.  
Eventually he dared to faze Koschei.  
“It was that rat again,” he began as Koschei tried to shush him into silence, “That rat from your stupid experiment. It’s done it again.”  
“Of course Theta,” Koschei replied with a voice like syrup, “And what did it do this time, pray?”  
“It… it wore a coat,” Theta replied while getting up and looking for the small intruder, “A military coat, like the one your decorative nutcracker had…”  
Theta looked down at the splinters in horror.

“It was him! The rat did it!” Theta shrieked.  
Koschei patted his friend on the shoulder. “Of course it did,” he replied mockingly, “it stripped the poor nutcracker off its clothes to wear them on a festive occasion.”  
Koschei stared at the broken figure. “The nutcracker and the rat king,” he mumbled before tossing the pieces over his shoulder.

“What’s that smell?” Theta asked while sniffing nervously.  
“What smell?”  
“It smells burnt,” Theta went on, “and it’s coming from my desk.”

Koschei pushed Theta out of his way as he hurried towards the writing desk.  
“You said that you had modified it,” Theta went on while craning his neck to witness what was going on, “What did you do with it?”  
“I added a few useful details,” Koschei replied while he knelt down before adding in relief, “Still in time.”  
“Useful details such as?” Theta asked again.  
“Such as an oven,” Koschei replied before turning around and thrusting a baking tray towards Theta.

“Would you like a Christmas cookie?”


	16. ...10 shouts for Gallifrey

_The Doctor stared at the door. Though lacking eyes it appeared to be staring back.  
“I will no longer tolerate this hoax. Do you understand? I will open this door and behind it there will be no memories, no humiliations protruding from my past. Just one simple room, alright?”_

_There was no response and so the Doctor opened the door and to his surprise there was indeed no memory leaping at him. Just a narrow ordinary room containing nothing but a coat hanger and an expensive looking coat._

_“That’s better.” The Doctor was relieved and indeed feeling a bit cold. He put on the coat without further consideration and stepped back through the door…right into a snow-drift._

Due to an unexpected turn of an experiment involving a snow globe and a tiny model of the Citadel, the Time Lord’s Academy was hit by the harshest and cruellest winter anyone could remember.

There have been memos and reminders and now the assembled faculty-meeting was sitting inside the cold meeting-room, wincing in unison at the merest draught and pulled their average six blankets tighter around their bodies.

“According to the procedure”, here the vice president of the unorthodox time-distortion committee, was interrupted by a series of coughs.  
“…we will now…” a loud sneeze cut off the rest of the sentence.

“Gentlemen” he stated and quickly added under the glare of the high-priestess of self-indulgent mass proportions, who had already drawn her ritual dagger, “and women.”  
Here he got once more interrupted by a displeased squeak protruding from under the blankets of the first priest of intellectual infamy, who to the puzzlement of his colleagues still possessed the body of a lemming.  
“And…other Time Lords of various shapes,” the vice-president continued, his patience wearing thin.  
He cleared his throat.   
“It has come to our attention…”

“Woolly underskirts, can you believe it.” The philosopher of nihilistic void observance burst out.   
“Over six hundred years I have worn nothing under my robes, but what regenerations had provided me with and now this. I mean, were is the dignity? Where is the…”

“It has come to our attention that unfortunately a vast amount of our students are,” and here the vice-president started to tremble, “wallowing in vice!”

“They are doing what?” the professor of time-preserving asked raising his ear trumpet and thereby accidently knocking over the arch-deacon of deluded space controversy’s tea.

“Wallowing in vice,” the vice-president repeated a little louder.

“What, what? What are them young folks doing to mice?”  
At which point the chairman of the pandemic micro distortions-spotters grabbed one end of the ear trumpet.

“VICE, gramps, THEY ARE WALLOWING IN VICE!”

“Oh…well,” the professor harrumphed sheepishly, “well…if you get right down to it…I mean…who can honestly say that after one or two moon beer he had not…I mean we were all young once…”

There were embarrassed murmurs running through the rows and the vice-president buried his face in his hands.

“What exactly is the harm in doing…it?” the chairman of the seismic manipulation institute ventured.

“They are bobsleighing”, the vice-president shouted, red in the face, “they are defacing their Time Lord ancestors by luging down the snow-covered slopes and shouting in an obscenely manner. They are a disgrace. Their blasphemous action would have been punished by execution only years ago. It is filth. And if I see one more student passing me on a sleigh screaming “For Gallifrey” I swear I will resume my work on the genetic extinguisher. Using this war cry in such a derogatory manner, might have been…”

The insults of the swaying and shouting vice-president got drowned out by the faculty members encircling him and discussing over a cure for his fit of raving madness.

“What exactly is going on?” Professor Fortunatus, doctor (Gallifrey only) of scientifically enlarged uncertainties who had been rather late for the meeting, whispered into his neighbour’s ear.

“Well, the chairman of the cloud enhancement committee is strangling the novice of unadulterated traveling energy with his scarf and the chairman of the pandemic micro distortions-spotters is trying to stuff his tea-cosy into the professor of time preserving’s ear trumpet.”

“Ah, I see”, he concluded, “We still haven’t found a way to prevent those stupid students from luging then, have we?”

And indeed that was the case. High over the Academy’s fields and meadows there were students huddled into a circle discussing slopes and vectors and aerodynamics. And if we move a bit closer to the forest and the snow sprinkled firs, the only colour present in this white wonderland, we might spot two figures standing on top of a steep hill.   
Well actually one is sitting on a rather old looking and ominously creaking sleigh while the other one is uncertainly shifting from one leg to the other, sticking his mitten-covered hands under his elbow in an old tradition of seeking warmth in a way that will not grant it.

“It is not as bad as it looks.”

“I grant that, but I don’t think there is anything in this universe that will be more unpleasant than this slope looks.”

Koschei was sighing. He was becoming unnerved. Through his three coats he could slowly feel the cold seeping through.   
“Look on the bright side,” he tried to convince Theta, “I mean you can either come with me and might survive or stand here in the snow and freeze to a solid block.”

Theta huffed dismissively and tried to stamp his feet in order to regain control over his icy toes. If they were still there, he thought to himself inspired by the lack of response he felt.

“Come on…” Koschei was begging.

“I don’t know,” Theta looked the down the rough slope peppered with snow drifts, spiky rocks and firs looming threateningly over the path formed by previous (and probably indeed previous) students, waiting for the right moment to drop onto an unexpected head.

“They say it is really cool.”

A tone in Koschei’s voice made Theta turn around.

“How cool?” he asked curiously.

“Worth at least two regenerations,” Koschei replied promisingly.

In one swift movement Theta had positioned himself behind his friend clinging excitedly onto his body.   
And as they tumbled and dashed down the slope their screams could be heard.

“For Gallifrey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Traditional speaking.  
> I must confess writing todays chapter was quite fun. I love wintersports.  
> PS: Happy Beethoven's Birthday!


	17. ...9 festive stockings

_The Doctor wandered through the dimly lit corridor, not even noticing his ship’s monotonous humming while he reminisced about the events of his past he had just witnessed._   
_In front of him a glowing entrance popped into existence, its door invitingly ajar._   
_“Well,” he concluded as he staggered through it without taking any notice of it at all, “at least it wasn’t as humiliating as the one incident where Koschei had presented me with a suggestive gift and my fellow colleagues wouldn’t stop calling me names for weeks and I was so embarrassed that I didn’t even dare wearing long socks for years…”_

“So let us conclude: it was very thoughtful of me giving you this present especially if you consider the seasonal value involved. It’s not only a traditional fabricate but expresses the importance of friendship as well. It displays kind-heartedness and our bond of affection. It’s a symbol of love; a symbol of my undying dedication for you.”

Theta snorted audibly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Pardon?” Koschei closed his demonstration.

“We’re talking about Christmas stockings.” Theta growled.

“So?” Koschei asked sheepishly, “they are quite common on Gallifrey now.”

“Yes, nonetheless…” Theta protested but got cut off by Koschei: “They’ve become a traditional part of the festive decoration. I would even go as far as saying, that they’re of priceless cultural value. So I ask you: what’s the harm in presenting a beloved friend with such an exquisite gift?”

“Why didn’t you tell me, that I’m not supposed to wear them?” Theta blurted out, red in the face.  
Koschei stared down Theta’s thighs, scarcely concealed by red and white striped stockings.”

“I was positive you were well acquainted with the tradition of hanging them up.”

Theta put his hands akimbo: “No, I wasn’t and you knew it. And why did you give me a pair anyway?”

Koschei smirked at him.  
“I might have considered your lack of information, but was positive you would know,” he defended himself.  
“By the way they do suit you.”

“Piss off.”  
Theta collapsed dramatically onto his bed before realising that Koschei hadn’t put it back into its original place. Thankfully he didn’t get hurt as he disappeared into an artificial but nonetheless soft snow-drift with only his stocking-garnished legs protruding.

As Theta was brushing off the fake snow, he caught sight of something small and furry and, to his displeasure, wearing a festive tunic scurrying across his heavily decorated windowsill. Koschei’s brainwashed rat, sensing Theta’s eyes on it, quickly put a candle into its paws and pretended to be a joyfully singing angel.  
And Theta pretended he didn’t see any of it.

“I hate you so much, Koschei,” Theta grumbled, “And get your grubby paws off me.”  
He shoved aside Koschei’s inquisitive fingers which wouldn’t stop exploring the soft and silky material which separated his fingertips from Theta’s bare skin.

Sitting side by side on the decorative snow-drift Koschei sighed.  
“The decoration I have generously provided you with really adds a certain festive touch to your room.”  
He glared at the angelic figures inhabiting the adorned windowsills.  
“But that sure is the weirdest looking, big-nosed angel I’ve ever seen in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, (Traditional again) for this chapter we tried something new.  
> It was quite an experience to write this chapter via conference.  
> An experience I'm not quite sure I want to repeat.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading.


	18. ...8 naughty traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty chapter ahead.  
> Also a special treat for those with a stocking fetish.

_“No, this time you won’t get me to watch that!”_

_The Doctor had gripped the unresisting doorknob and had smashed the door behind him tightly shut. The hinges creaked and jerked before the wooden frame started to dissolve in the wall.  
“Tricked you, didn’t I?” asked the Doctor the TARDIS in general as he leaned against the corridor’s wall, catching his breath._

_“Why would I want to watch myself being taken advantage of by a child-hood friend who grew up to become a maniac who tried to kill me in the most painful ways possible?” he thought out loud, accusingly staring up at the ceiling, “That’s just disgusting! And extremely indelicate too!”  
The Doctor didn’t fail to notice the tremor spreading through his ship. The walls shook and trembled. A bit more uncertain he babbled on: “Besides, technically I didn’t even want Koschei to shag me back then so strictly speaking it would be aiding and abetting if I was to see that happen again and that would make me an accessory and I thought there were no crimes to be committed inside of the TARDIS otherwise the main engine would shut down or something like that...”_

_The Doctor sighed crestfallenly as he felt the solid wall giving way behind his back._  
_“Oh no, not again,” he whispered with his hands over his face, “Please don’t make me watch it again, it was humiliating enough the first time it happened...”_  
_He tripped_.  
As he tumbled to his knees he felt a heavy weight upon him, forcing him into a face-down position.  
He half turned while he reached for the hands clinging to his hips.  
“Don’t even think about it,” Theta hissed through gritted teeth.  
Koschei rubbed his cheeks against Theta’s neck while massaging _, titillating_ , the sensitive spots at the upper part of Theta’s hip bones.  
“Oh, you don’t want to know what I have in mind for you,” Koschei chuckled as Theta thrust his rear end upwards involuntarily, but induced by Koschei’s stimulating touch.

Theta growled under his breath.  
“Koschei stop.”

Koschei didn’t seem to take the least bit of interest in Theta’s warnings.  
Carefully he stripped Theta off his silky red shorts. He ran his fingers over the velvety red and white striped stockings.  
Theta reached for Koschei’s hands in order to push them aside. Though he couldn’t help noticing the pulsating arousal between his own thighs.

He bit down on his lower lip.  
“Just stop, Koschei,” Theta whispered, not as convinced as before.  
Koschei’s eager fingers worked their way over Theta’s tender skin. He brushed over Theta’s conspicuous hard-on.  
He smirked.

“Kosch, I...” Theta began, his voice dwindling into silence as soon as he felt Koschei’s thumb against his lips. His other hand was preoccupied several floors below...

‘Come on, do it.’  
Theta felt Koschei’s voice inside of his mind as he stabilized their mental bond.  
Theta rolled his eyes, silently answering: ‘No.’  
‘Don’t play hard to get,’ Koschei intensified his grip on Theta’s throbbing member, ‘I’ll get you anyway.’

Theta closed his eyes and tried to relax. Involuntarily his mouth opened a fraction – only to let in his friend’s thumb, taking it all in and shoving it against his palate with his tongue.  
Koschei moaned into Theta’s ear, his hips thrusting playfully against Theta’s backside.  
Theta worked its way towards Koschei’s carpus, licking and sucking on Koschei’s invasive fingers as he treated each one of them to a tongue-massage.

Koschei couldn’t hold back any longer.  
Unsteadily he got back to his feet, his fingers burying themselves in Theta’s hair as he pushed and shoved his rock-hard member into Theta’s lascivious mouth.

Theta grabbed his own neglected member and masturbated quietly while Koschei thrust against his head and mouth, rubbing his palate sore.  
Theta felt his mind melding with Koschei’s, felt his thoughts, the lustful moans he withheld and bit back. He heard Koschei’s licentious swears, his abuses, the violent and brutal threats, his pleading and yearning for a quick and exalting cum shot inside of Theta’s mouth.

Theta winced; Koschei was pounding his mouth forcefully and roughly so he was more than pleased as Koschei finally released the pressure and he felt his sticky love-juice gushing down his throat.  
He swallowed.  
And winced at Koschei’s lauding remark:  
‘Good boy.’

Theta panted, the last drops of Koschei’s hot ‘reward’ still dripping from his tongue.  
Koschei squatted down beside him in order to assist him further.

He reached down, eliciting not only a mental storm of protest but an audible soliciting moan.  
‘Come on those tights’ Koschei dared Theta while taking control over Theta’s twitching dick.  
‘Shut up’ Theta remarked quietly, feeling his impending climax.

‘Come on... do it’ Koschei went on, his movement getting smoother and quicker every second.  
Theta closed his eyes and held his breath.  
He clamped his legs together, feeling how he bedabbled his own bare thighs.  
He could virtually feel Koschei smirking behind his back.  
Again there was the unwanted and yet thrilling remark.  
‘Good boy.’

Koschei picked up Theta and dragged him over to the fake snowdrift.  
He placed his body on top of it before raking his fingers over his tights.  
“We could make that our _little_ tradition,” Koschei sniggered while Theta rested his head on the fake snow.

“You could wear them every year for me. Just for our own private celebration.”


	19. ...7 gingerbread abominations

_“No, no, no, no, no!”_   
_The Doctor stamped his foot while yelling at the TARDIS._   
_“You’ll never force me into watching that again! Do you hear me, never again!”_   
_The Doctor shuddered in distaste._

_Almost apologetically a door swung open._   
_The Doctor straightened his jacket while approaching the door._

_“I hope you keep that in mind.”_

_A spicy smell filled the air._  
 _“Well at least it seems to be quiet,” he commented while stepping into an empty corridor extending in front of him._  
It was a quiet day at the Academy, no students to be seen, no staff hurrying from one floor to another. There was no one present.  
Unnaturally quiet.  
The usually bustling passage seemed to be deprived of all their ordinary sound and noises, a melange consisting of swearing students who just got their results, snoring nocturnal specimen or the most common one: the hung-over moaning one trying to study for their exams tomorrow.  
Incidentally not one of aforesaid students could be seen, neither heard.  
By observing a certain dorm room, one might notice the irritated looking eyes checking both sides of the corridor before slowly opening the door inch by inch.  
The occupant of said room stepped forward after double-checking the abandoned corridor and sighed relieved.

“Excuse me…”

In an instant he had dragged the perplexed student into his room and pushed him against the closed door.  
“Shh…” he whispered anxiously and clamped one hand over his colleague’s mouth.  
He looked both ways before relaxing a little, still not withdrawing his hand from under which muffled curses protruded.  
“Haven’t you heard?” he asked his bewildered colleague who was trying to wriggle out of his grip.  
In a conspiratorial manner he leaned closer and whispered into the puzzled student’s ear:  
“It knows we are here…”

“What are you talking about?” his friend whispered after the room’s occupant had let gone off him.

“How long have you been away?” the room’s occupant asked, ignoring his friend’s question.

“Five seconds, but unfortunately time-looping for at least two weeks. I was about to take away the broom but got stuck until the custodian found me one hour ago, which would explain a lot about the dirty floors but somehow…”

The other student waved him into silence.  
They both listened, straining their ears.  
And indeed there was the distant sound of hooves. Then it stooped. They pawed the ground.  
And to his bewilderment they seemed to gallop into a different direction.

“Where is everyone?” he asked almost voicelessly “And what by Borusa’s beard was that?”

“It’s the curse of the west wing.” Answered the other student dramatically.

“Yeah, right. So one more experiment gone wrong.”

“Not just an experiment, a monstrosity.” He took his friend by his shoulders and started shaking him, “It destroys everything in its way, it bites through metal and stone and worst of all, it seems to be immune to all kind of sonic devices.”

It had come out of nowhere, but suddenly there was an enraged snorting emerging from the other side of the door.

There were two knocks.  
Then the door burst open.  
Angry neighing filled the air, wood creaked, stone exploded, beds, shelves and other obstacles got simply kicked in, leaving nothing but two passed out Time Lords in the room, a path of destruction and the faint smell of cinnamon.

Theta had followed its trail of demolition which had led him, as he had presumed, to Koschei’s room.

“Koschei!”

Theta was not at all surprised to hear small feet scurrying away as he entered.  
Ah, yes. The little rodent friend.  
Somehow it had never gotten quite acquainted with the decoration so in almost regular intervals wooden dolls splintered, clay figures lost their heads or extremities and glass broke.  
The loud crash protruding from the windowsill made Theta flinch.  
Still there was no sense in looking for, what had fallen victim to the inquisitive rodent this time, because every splinter or shard or chip was removed immediately.  
The clang of the dustpan and brush dangling once again from their hooks did not even surprise Theta.  
It had observed them.  
And it had learned.

“Koschei!”

“Adjusting the icing right now” Koschei’s voice sounded far off. There was a finishing sigh followed by the sound of approaching footsteps and a trapdoor was swung open which produced a whistling Koschei wearing a rather tasteless apron stained with icing and bits of red and green glacé cherries.

Theta said nothing but just stood there with his hands folded across his chest.

“It’s just a gingerbread horse,” Koschei defended himself.

“Yes, a raving mad one, which had come to life. By the way, since when is gingerbread hard enough to smash through stone?”

“My mother’s recipe,” Koschei explained matter-of-factly.

“Ah”, Theta retorted. Koschei’s earnest reply had stolen his thunder right from the beginning. A bit irritated he added: “So… what are you planning to do about it.”

Koschei stared at him with the meek expression of an innocent child.

“Can’t we keep it?”


	20. ...6 Christmas carols

_“I’ve always wondered what had happened to that horse afterwards,” the Doctor mused, still lost in thoughts._   
_“One day it smashed through three laboratories, kicked down one dorm room and exited via a gingerbread horse shaped hole in the east wing. The last time anyone had seen it, it was heading for the mountains.”_   
_Incidentally, only months later, there had been a complaint by the local hermits inhabiting those barren rocks about something smashing a tunnel through their beloved mountain and kicking a lot of bears._   
_He shuddered._

_Miraculously the Doctor’s attention got drawn to the materialising door. Actually it became quite obvious what had attracted his attention._   
_This time it was neither the smell, nor the lights, but what protruded from beyond this door._

_Alien noises and sounds were escaping through the thin crack the slightly ajar door provided._   
_For the first time during his until now 19 days long martyrdom he felt this certain tickle running through his veins._   
_He was curious._

_He grabbed the doorknob and pushed open the door vigorously._

_And felt as if something solid had been pushing him back._

Windows burst, metal creaked and wooden doors warped helplessly under the oppressive vibrancies.  
What sounded like a battle cry that would have encouraged Sontarans to rethink their attack was actually music.  
Not music as such. More like if someone unaccustomed with musical notes had written a tune without rhythm and melody and probably lacked any concept of aesthetics.  
Like a young Time Lord singing.  
Well, not in fact singing but trying to sing (which is not quite the same, believe me).

Theta was singing in a loud and clear voice.  
Unfortunately his vocal chords did not reproduce what his brain was telling them to verbalise.

‘Silver trees hm hm hmm  
Silver trees hm hm hmm  
We must be on Gallifrey  
Di da da da da da  
Deep red grass hm hm hmm  
Time won’t pass hm hm hmm  
We’re Time Lords here to stay’

Eventually he stopped, causing the little rat on the windowsill, which was incidentally dressed as a Victorian gentleman, to slacken and sighing in relief while removing the beard, it had panic-stricken tried to stuff into its ears.

“What do you think, Koschei?” Theta asked sticking out his chest with pride.

Koschei seemed to take no notice of his pleased friend and kept his nose between the book he was currently reading.  
Theta grabbed some peanuts out of a tasteless green and red striped bowl and opened fire upon his unmoved colleague. This got the desired effect.  
In fact Koschei looked up and removed his earplugs.

“Ah, it stopped,” he declared delightedly to the world in general.

“Is it still that bad?” Theta asked disappointedly, his lower lip trembling in despair.

“Perhaps a different song?” Koschei ventured carefully, “One that might retrieve your powerful voice and display its advantages.”

Theta looked up excitedly.

“Perhaps: ‘Inshrakhata is coming the Daleks are getting fed…up’?

Koschei was about to protest but thought better of it as he saw the hopefully gleaming eyes of his best friend.  
“Perhaps,” he declared to Theta’s excitement.

As Theta took a deep breath there was a desperate shriek as the little brain-washed rat started clogging up its ears with tinsel.  
Unfortunately Koschei did not hear it.  
For reasons of precaution he had already put his ear plugs back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested the lyrics Theta is ‘singing’ are taken from a song called “Silver trees songs of Gallifrey”.  
> There is a cute stop-motion video on youtube featuring it.  
> Go check it out, you won't regret it ;)


	21. ...5 Christmas treats

_“My parents used to say I had a lovely voice,” the Doctor stated downcast, “They cherished it so much, that they told me to spare it and strain it only on special occasions.”_

_For the first time in his Time Lord- TARDIS relationship he was pleased his ship could not make fun of him._   
_At least she could not verbalise it, he corrected himself._   
_The Doctor looked around attentively._   
_Perhaps this flickering light was supposed to mock him, or the unusual dimmed lights._   
_Or this were just the thoughts of a madman whose ship had betrayed him and locked him into a corridor he could not exit, his rational part of the brain concluded._

_So the Doctor decided to continue his displeasing memories and humiliating scenes his brain had happily supplanted centuries ago._

_Indeed there was a new door forming right in front of him._   
_And indeed there was a novel entrance, its door invitingly open._   
_As the Doctor drew closer he could sense a strong fragrance penetrating the air._

_An unearthly smell bemusing his aesthesia. It smelled like…_

“…all the spices of the spice-rack you could lay your curious hands on mixed together. And there are some burnt bits sticking out on this side,” Theta pointed at the wobbling monstrosity keeping his distance in case it would snap at his extended finger.

“I always thought you loved my inquisitive fingers,” Koschei chuckled but continued before Theta could interrupt him, “but for you information, it is not burnt, those are raisins and various dried fruits.”

Koschei had place two normal sized plates on the ridiculously adorned table as well as one saucer.  
Still Theta could not take his eyes off the “cake” Koschei had…well, it would be safe to settle on generated, during his manic Christmas obsession.  
He was still wearing the tasteless apron with all the jolly looking gingerbread men baking and icing small pastries printed on it.  
And it was not helping that he wore the same maniacal smirk of unlimited Christmassiness.

“It’s traditional,” Koschei explained while cutting the cooking faux pas into two moderately sized servings, as well as one small one.  
Then the pieces were sprinkled with spirit and set alight but the flames extinguished only seconds later by a viscous unnaturally yellow sauce and finally crowned by a sprig of holly.  
Koschei placed one of the plates in front of him, one in front of Theta and the small one in front of the rat which was already tying its napkin around its neck.

“What’s in it?” Theta asked carefully

“Take a bite and find out…”Koschei replied cryptically.

For the first time the rat and Theta exchanged knowing glances.

“That’s what my parents used to say when I was a child,” Theta mumbled to himself pushing the piece with his fork sceptically around on his plate just in case it pushed back, “only afterwards I never even wanted to know what had been inside.”

Theta got a little bit unsettled by Koschei’s displeasing grin as he was able to dislodge a bite-sized piece of the dry absurdity.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the little rodent friend sniffing the “treat” and looking both ways before it dropped the piece under the table, but licking its paws greedily as soon as it was aware of Koschei observing it.

Against his better knowledge Theta took a bite.

“A bit dry”, he croaked, Koschei handing him a glass.

“I’ll keep it in mind next time,” Koschei stroked Theta’s twitching shoulders, “but why don’t you try some pudding with your holly…”


	22. ...4 unexpected snowstorms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut ahead...

_“This bloody Koschei with his bloody cooking and his bloody Christmas obsession.”_  
_The Doctor looked around worriedly._  
_“Well, twenty-one done, only four more to go.”_  
_He straightened his jacket, searching for the gleaming circles marking the spot where the next entrance might pop into existence._  
_The Doctor closed his eyes while stepping through the door appearing hopefully right in front of him._  
_“If I see one more decorated tree or glistening shelf, I think I’m going to snap,” he said to himself secretly hoping the TARDIS would get the hint._

_Still keeping his eyes tightly shut, the Doctor smelled the hearty smell of lacquered wood, the biting smell of the cold air seeping through windows adorned by lovely frost pattern._  
_Heard the pleasantly crackling sound of burning wood in an open fire, the creaking of the shutters defying the merciless ice-winds of the snow-bringers, the five coldest days during the winter period._

And they had found a quiet and safe place.  
Their little walk through the breathtakingly glistening woods. And how they had chased each other through the gleaming snow-drifts.  
But they had been taken by surprise by the treacherous winds of the snow-bringers.  
It must have been hours they had fought against the icy-storm outside, the thin icy crystals had cut their scarcely exposed flesh like small blades.  
With their remaining strength they had reached the summer residence of Koschei’s family.  
The harsh weather outside had made this decrepit, abandoned but most of all moderately warm and dry place look like paradise.  
Still the cold storm rapped at the door, which caused Theta to shudder while thinking back at the impending death oppressing the barren land, which they had luckily escaped from.

“Still feeling cold?” Koschei asked softly, stroking Theta’s shoulders.  
Thea nodded absentmindedly while staring into the delightfully warm flickering flames. Just observing them seemed to warm him from the inside

“Perhaps this will help,” Koschei proposed, while trickling warm oil over Theta’s shoulders, which caused him to moan delightedly. Then he commenced at massaging some life back into his shoulders.

Theta sighed and panted his unwound body squirming and rubbing against the soft deer-fur they had rest their naked and shivering bodies on.  
He stroke the warm fur fondly, burying his nails in it while Koschei elicited the sweetest moans from him, working his way all over his exhausted body.  
Koschei drew nearer and nearer while conquering his beloved friend’s body, their legs entwining, hips moving against thighs, hands caressing and fondling the beloved flesh.  
Soon there playful fight for dominance and touch had left them laying hopelessly entrapped in each other’s arms, unable to move nor free themselves from the oppressive and heated tightness.

Though exhausted and drained as they were, something stirred within them.  
Energy, pure vigour rushing through their veins. Making them agitated as they moved and chafed restlessly over the soft fleece.

The world around them fell apart and was reborn seconds later. Their bodies and minds bound together, they listened to the universe, heard the breathing of their planet and felt the spinning of their solar system.  
They had conquered and they had lost.  
Like the first colours shattering the void they had originated from, an unknown sensation broke their unison.

Theta found himself covered in cold sweat lying on top of Koschei, his head resting on his friend’s chest which was uneasily going up and down.

No words had been spoken afterwards.  
No, of course there had spoken to each other, but they had not talked about it.  
Their special moment.  
Their shared love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Traditional speaking .  
> Well, this chapter was some kind of maiden voyage for me, for I have never before written any kind of Theta/Koschei smut.  
> (Yeah, all the naughty bits had been written by DoctorDalek)  
> I did write some rather explicit scenes in my The Last Door fanfiction, but I had never found the courage until today to write some intimate scenes with those two.  
> (Ooh...I'm so soppy, I just can't help it. It's the weather outside, the lovely snow.  
> But enough of this.)  
> I hope you liked it.


	23. ...3 feting visitants

_Having closed the previous door behind him, the Doctor wandered through the corridor._   
_Suddenly he sniffed._   
_“What’s that reek?” he wondered as he followed a track._   
_“Oh, what a funny smell? It smells like a mouse. Only dreadfully strong,” he added, sneezing._

_Induced by the Doctor’s sneezing a door sprung open right in front of him._

“Koschei, I really think you should so something about it.”

Koschei sat up, dislodging the book from his chest, where it had rested peacefully until now.  
“About what?” he asked dizzy.

“About _this_!”

Theta pointed an accusing finger at a small hole in the wall.

“It’s just a crack in the wall,” Koschei replied dismissively and yawned.  
“No, it’s not,” Theta sat up straight beside Koschei who was snuggling up to the furry carpet again, desperately trying to get some sleep beside his agitated friend, “it’s a rat hole. It’s been gnawed into the wall.”

Koschei sighed and turned over in his makeshift bed (aka the carpet and a blanket).  
“So what?”

“What do you mean, so what? You’ve got rats between the walls! They are everywhere!” complained Theta.  
“And that’s something new?” Koschei asked while stretching and trying to get comfortable on the floor again, “I’ve always kept rats. It’s not unusual that one or two of them might dare an escape. So what? They’re probably already out there somewhere under the golden light of day, starting families or getting eaten by a polecat. It’s just what rats do.”

“And hanging up small ornaments in order to celebrate the seasonal holiday?” Theta asked bitterly, “That rat is up to something, I just know it! It’s preparing... it’s been watching us, observing us all this time... now it’s plotting a plan...”  
Koschei sighed. He grabbed Theta’s shoulders, facing his weary friend with an expression of deep repugnance.  
“You’re paranoid again,” Koschei said levelly while trying to get Theta back into the makeshift bed, “rats have never done anything like it before.”  
“This rat did. Look, there is again! What is it planning this time?!” Theta shrieked while pointing an accusing finger at the trail of ruffling fake-fur that became apparent on the carpet.  
“It’s not planning anything,” Koschei tried to appease him, “Come on Theta, you haven’t slept for days because of the ‘rat problem’. And this is Tuesday evening. You really should try to get some rest.”

“Now it’s hiding in the hole,” Theta reported.  
“It’s what rats do,” sighed Koschei.

“Behind curtains?”

Theta had gotten up and stared at the rat hole in bewilderment.  
“Yes, they do hide behind curtains,” Koschei replied. While casting a glance over the crack in the wall he added: “Of course usually they don’t put them up themselves and decorate them with twine and tassels...”  
They both bend down, accidentally knocking their heads together and scolded one another.  
When they took a closer look at the decorated entrance they noticed the small sign.

“Private Tea Party – Please prescind from disruptions,” Koschei mumbled after he’d deciphered the tiny words, written in the finest calligraphic handwriting he’d ever seen, by using a magnifying glass.  
Koschei twitched aside the curtains and stared.  
His jaw dropped.  
Eventually he shot his mouth and smirked.  
“Looks like our rodent-friend has risen in respectable company.”

From the hole in front of Koschei came a number of little noises,  
Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap tip.

“Now, what can that be?” said Theta as he pushed aside Koschei and peered into the hole.

Theta watched in deafening silence.  
Eventually he managed to mumble: “This is very peculiar.”

“I’d even say ‘This is passing extraordinary!’” Koschei added.  
Theta cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “And why would you say that?” he asked while twitching aside the curtain again.  
“I don’t know,” replied Koschei, suddenly taken aback, “It seemed to be the right thing to say.”

Theta pushed back the curtain and doubled over to get as far and quickly away from the rat hole as possible.  
Koschei pulled Theta back to his feet before they both stared fixedly at the billowing curtain.

Out stepped a little lady rat, dressed in the manner of a Victorian aristocrat. It made a courtesy to them before scuttling back into the hole.  
But the little stage-like entrance didn’t stay empty for long as a little gentleman rat stepped out and made a bow to the two of them.  
Then it swung its walking stick, twitched its bearded nose this way and that way and hurried after the preceded lady rat.

Koschei and Theta stared at one another in shocked silence.  
“Did you see the table in there?” Koschei asked eventually.  
“They really are having a tea-party,” Theta stated, “And their tea set is the most exquisite hand-painted china that may have been made by paws. And they’re wearing frock coats and festive garments and capes and top hats and gilets...”

“With one and twenty button holes of cherry-coloured silk,” Koschei added.  
Theta treated him to a look of deep fascination.  
“How do you know that?” he asked wonderingly.  
“I counted them,” said Koschei and shrugged, “Don’t ask me why.”

“There are a lot of rats in there tonight,” Koschei said at the sound of wine bottles becoming unscrewed and the general quite frolic squeaking of rodents in his wall, “But I haven’t seen my rat, the rat which had partaken in the experiment.”

Having said that, Koschei heard a tinkling sound, as if very small paws tried to put an overturned bell back into place. Out of the corner of his eyes Koschei noticed a small furry ball hopping away down off his writing desk, nowhere to be seen.  
“It definitely disappeared under the wainscot,” Koschei mumbled to himself.

“You don’t even have a wainscot,” Theta replied, “What did you say that for, then?”

“My sewing kit is missing,” Koschei stated, ignoring Theta’s bickering, “In fact my sewing kit is right in front of me but its contents are missing.”  
“What do you have a sewing kit for?” Theta asked.  
“To stitch up that cute little mouth of yours,” Koschei replied sweetly while rummaging through the scarce remains of his kit, “Though I haven’t brought up the courage to do that. Until now, anyway.”

Everything was gone - except for one scrap of paper pinned to a piece of wool with these words in little, paw-writing -

NO MORE TWIST.

In a smaller, and obviously more bashful handwriting it said beneath those words:

OH, AND NO MORE NEEDLES AND BUTTONS AND SCRAPS OF SILK AND COTTON AND VELVET; AND NO MORE APPLES AND NUTS AND NO MORE RUM AND WHISKEY AND STOUT BEER AND THE STICKY THING IN THE SMALL ROUND BOTTLE.

 


	24. ...2 Christmas spirits

_The Doctor sighed while closing the door softly behind him._  
_“Oh yeah... Memories...”_  
_He rested his back against the door which slowly melded with the background._  
_“We never discovered the true cause of Koschei’s weird talking back then,” he pondered while scratching his head, “Of course it could have been the repercussions of our little adventure in Victorian London the week before that one...”_

 _The Doctor sighed again. He cast a glance upwards._  
_He folded his arms in front of his chest and scolded his TARDIS:_  
_“That could have been a link if you had gotten the hint. Oh, come on! Please! Just once, ONCE in a while I want to decide what I get to see of my past. And it had been such a nice evening. That was, until we finally arrived in the city so polluted and deteriorated, the streets were filled with ash instead of snow; and the cold and the terrible coughing in the streets.”_

_The Doctor listened intently. Had that been the squeaking of a door, now slightly ajar and brilliantly outlined against the dimly light corridor?  
Hopefully he went on while approaching aforesaid portal:_

_“And there was this little kid with its nose frozen to the glass pane of a toymaker’s shop. And Koschei would have zapped him with his newly invented laser-screwdriver if I hadn’t stepped on his foot in time...”_

“Ouch! You clumsy bastard!”  
Koschei hopped from one foot to the other while rubbing his shin.  
“Sorry, lost my footing there,” Theta apologized without meaning it, “Oh look, your laser beam has set a barrel beside the window alight and the heat has melted the poor child’s face so it’s no longer stuck to the pane thanks to you.”

Koschei treated Theta to a death-glare. Theta retorted a smug smile.  
“You did that on purpose,” Koschei grumbled.  
“Who? Me?” Theta asked accusingly, “Anyway, you can’t just kill an orphan on Christmas Eve. That’s not very merciful.”  
“Well, it would have taught him a lesson,” Koschei replied, miffed about Theta’s fake innocent look, “He shouldn’t have been out in the cold. And it’s better than freezing in the cold with your face stuck to a pane.”

“And you would have interfered with the course of history,” Theta ignored Koschei’s explanations.”  
Koschei shrugged.  
“It’s Christmas. Miracles do happen.”

“An orphan dying on Christmas Eve is not a miracle,” Theta replied.  
“Not if they’re sizzled by alien technology,” Koschei defended his actions.  
“Of course, if a child has been sick all this time and dies in the coldest nights of the year because his father comes home late because he has to work overtime for a bitter old miser it wouldn’t surprise me at all,” he added after careful consideration.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Theta asked and cocked an eyebrow at him.

Koschei shrugged.

“Just came to my mind. Come on. Let’s find somewhere warmer to stay.”

“I’m really not sure whether you’re capable of controlling this TARDIS,” Theta pointed out as Koschei closed the door of the stolen vehicle behind him.  
“You’re just jealous because I didn’t fail my fourteenth TARDIS-flying exam,” Koschei replied smugly.  
Theta folded his arms in front of his chest.  
“At least I know that I can’t fly this thing,” he replied in a huff, “While you just think you know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Koschei replied and pulled a lever. The TARDIS wheezed and shook before it creaked to a halt.  
“Then where are we right now?” Theta wanted to know.

“According to the test readings and the surface integrity scans I’d say,” Koschei said while pushing open the door and peering through it, “...we’re in an old house.”

“You wouldn’t have needed a test scan,” Theta replied while stepping out into the dark and creaking corridor. “It’s freezing. The temperature must be subzero. It’s even worse than outside. Who could live here?”

“Someone who is too stingy with his coal... someone who’d prefer freezing to death because it’d be cheaper,” Koschei added.  
And then they heard the grumbling.

“Brr... humbug...”  
The light of a single candle spilled, through a slightly ajar door, into the corridor.

“Come on, let’s pay our host a visit,” said Koschei while pushing Theta forward.  
Theta stumbled into what turned out to be a bedroom.  
The monstrous pillows were so fluffy he hardly noticed an old man’s head in the middle of it.  
Theta flinched as a face consisting of wrinkles and age spots stared at him, with eyes wide open in bewilderment.

Theta froze.  
“For lo, the winter is past, the snow is over...” he stammered.  
The old face kept staring at him. Then its eyes swivelled sideways into Koschei’s direction.  
“What are you doing?” hissed Koschei through gritted teeth while pulling Theta closer.  
“You said we were on earth, Victorian England on Christmas Eve,” Theta tried to defend his actions.  
“Yes and the TARDIS’ language processor is working normally,” Koschei replied.  
Theta felt the blush rising.

The old man in the bed cleared his throat.  
They both turned and treated him to a smile.

“We are extraterrestrial life...” Theta began but Koschei clapped a hand over his face.  
“We are just two gentlemen trying to get into the Christmas spirit,” Koschei tried corroborating his story with a sprig of holly he’d found among his robes.

The old man stared at him in bewilderment.  
“Spirits?” he repeated, “Christmas spirits, you say?”

“Exactly,” sighed Koschei and tossed the holly over his shoulder.

“Kosch, what are you doing?” whispered Theta as the old man tried to get out of bed.  
“Never mind him; he’s just a crabby grey-faced man who’ll die of old age soon,” Koschei replied levelly, “And he’s deaf, too.”  
“Are you really a spirit?” the old man asked sceptically, “I reckon spirits wore gleaming robes and are translucent entities of spiritual perfection.”

“Well, it is Christmas...” Koschei began in a voice like syrup.  
The old man shook his head and shuddered. “Christmas... brrr... humbug!”  
“Great, and he’s got neuroses too,” sighed Koschei.

“You are not a spirit, my young man,” the old man replied matter-of-factly, “If you were a decent spirit you could prove it.”

Koschei put his hands akimbo.  
“You want prove?”

 

A few hours later, a battered old man, an exhausted Theta and a smug Koschei left the TARDIS.  
“You really should be ashamed of yourself,” Theta said reproachfully, “Scaring the old geezer like this.”  
“Well he asked ‘What will become of me?’ – and I showed him.”  
“That was a rhetorical question,” Theta replied.  
Behind them the old man started sobbing again.

“And why did we have to travel both backwards and forwards in time?” Theta asked. He placed his face in a hand. “And I wish I wouldn’t get sick whenever I’m stepping into that TARDIS with you.”

“You’re the only one I know who’d need a settee in a TARDIS,” Koschei replied grumpily, “and a seatbelt.”  
Theta folded his arms.  
“It would be sufficient if you learned how to fly this thing.”

Then he turned.  
“Where is he?” Theta asked, pointing accusingly at the void where the old geezer had been just a minute ago.  
“Oh, he headed for the streets and was crying ‘Spirit, hear me! I am not the man I was!’ and whatnot,” Koschei replied levelly.  
Theta sighed and looked out into the freezing cold.  
“I’ll just get him back to bed and then we can leave before you do any more harm to the space-time continuum.”

 

“Stop being miffed.”  
“I’m not miffed, I’m just worried.”  
“Why should you be worried? It’s Christmas Morning. Any everything’s back to normal again.”

Theta sighed while staring at Koschei as they wandered aimlessly through the streets alive with jolly citizens.  
“We’d better check on the man we paid a visit yesterday,” Theta hazarded, “He seemed really shaken up. Someone really shouldn’t have pointed out all the bad things he’s done in his life.”  
“No need to look at me like that,” replied Koschei, “Besides he seems to be alright. He just walked into that house over there, with a big turkey under his arms.”

The windows were fogging up as the two Time Lords peered through the glass.  
“Merry Christmas, everyone,” they heard the old man saying.  
And as the two Time Lords peered closer they noticed an ill-looking child that added:  
“And God bless us, Everyone.”

There was the sound of bursting glass and all of a sudden the turkey on the kitchen table was roasted and brown.  
And Koschei put back his laser screwdriver and rubbed his shin as he stared accusingly at Theta who claimed that he had only lost his footing again.


	25. ...and a Master in a pear-tree bed

_The twenty-fourth door was not even halfway closed, but already the Doctor was walking up and down the corridor agitatedly._   
_“Come on,” he challenged the TARDIS, “One more room. One more and this whole charade shall end.”_

_He patted her walls fondly as the last door opened itself ominously creaking._   
_“I still don’t know what’s gotten into you,” the Doctor whispered before taking a deep breath and stepping through the final door._

_This time it felt different._   
_There were no lights, no picture forming in front of his eyes, no old smells bedazzling his senses._

_While his eyes were getting attuned to the dark environment he could make out the dark outlines of a bed._   
_There was a soft chuckle._

_“Hello Doctor,” a far too well-known voice greeted him._

_And there in the centre of the room he stood. The Master, his once beloved Koschei greeting him with one of his maniacal grins._

_“Master”, the Doctor stammered, “…but how did you.”_

_“It seems that you have finally found the little treat I wanted to delight you with.”_   
_A bright light surrounded the Master, his outlines glistening. When he spoke, he did so with a smooth, almost unearthly voice. His eyes were strange too. They glistened like gold, but without the flame the Doctor had learned to know and fear. Strangely enough the Master seemed to take no notice of him, for he stared straight ahead, or perhaps…_

_“To my disappointment, and I’m overall positive yours as well, I am unable to congratulate you in person. So a roughly made hologram will have to do for now.”_   
_Here the fake Master chuckled._   
_“But, Doctor I am impressed, I really am. It was so much fun preparing those compressed time-lapses for you. Don’t you think I chose the most remarkable ones?”_

_The hologram chuckled again. “Come on Doctor,” it continued, “I mean, who else could have interfered with your ship? 24 days and no suspicion at all?” it asked mockingly._

_“I should have guessed,” the Doctor mumbled complainingly,” you partook in every single memory, you self-centred bastard.”_

_“I am pretty sure there was a snappy remark, so yes, well done and now do shut up Doctor I’m trying to tell you something…”_

_“But…”_

_“And no more interruptions,” the hologram admonished him._

_The Doctor closed his mouth grumpily. The Master new him all too well, didn’t he…_

_“You may have wondered how I interfered with your ship.”_

_“Well, actually…”_

_“Ah, ah…” the hologram interrupted him waving its finger dismissively, “what did I just ask of you? Bad Doctor. So, ah yes docking onto your ship. Well, let’s say I send you a little message, I was quite confident you wouldn’t resist. So I went ahead to this specific coordinates and left a data-leech for you._   
_You remember them, don’t you? Small partially organic parasites which would not only lock jaws with its newly found host, but slowly become part of its circuit, thereby gobbling up or replacing important information._   
_When you landed, it docked onto the next promising ship, aka your TARDIS, and slowly worked its way right onto the internal storage concerning sub-basement five._   
_I had equipped him with a total of 24 compressed time-lapses and a hologram and…well, here I am only that I am not.”_

_The Doctor stared in shocked silence._

_“Why?” he broke the oppressing silence, “why this memories?”_

_The hologram remained silent for several minutes before it said: “You have probably finished cursing me and are asking yourself why I did all this.”_

_Suddenly it looked abashed._

_“The truth is…” it stammered, “the truth is I still love you…”_

_The sentence had cut right through his disdain and had opened his heart. In those translucent eyes, those fake face he could still recognise his friend…his Koschei._

_“I know I can’t hear you and…but I wish…you would still reciprocate to my love.”_

_Tears were running down the Doctor’s cheeks as he walked up to the hologram._   
_“I love you too”, he whispered and tried to kiss the air where the Master’s cheeks would have been._   
_And his lips kissed skin._

_In one swift movement the Master had pushed the Doctor onto the bed._

_“Oh, you’re so gullible,” he chuckled while disrobing himself and forcing the Doctor down with his bodyweight, “Did you really think I would send you a hologram to greet you?”_

_The Doctor tried to protest and push the chuckling Master off him but got smothered by kisses and hugs._   
_“Oh, you sensitive old sod. After all this years you still fall for my traps. You never learn, do you?” the Master shook his head mildly as he fastened the Doctor’s limbs together with garlands and tinsel._   
_“Oh, you look adorable, my dear Doctor. Simply adorable,” he sniggered as he tied a ribbon around the Doctor’s neck._   
_“And now, to top it all,” the Master said while grinning and retrieved a small wrapped up box from the recesses of his suit._   
_“A little present for you,” he added with a smug smile as he unpacked it and removed the lid._   
_The Doctor stared flabbergasted at the uncurling stockings._

_“I always thought of this to be our very own Christmas tradition,” the Master explained while fighting to adjust the stockings on the Doctor’s shaking legs._   
_“It’s so nice of you to wear them just for me.”_

_The Doctor tried to protest but found his verbal eruptions to fall on deaf ears. Actually it was his mouth that proved to be unable to pronounce the Gallifreyan curses since it was occupied by wooden apple the Master had rammed between his teeth._

_“Oh, come on Doctor, as if you wouldn’t enjoy my company,” purred the Master while he bared the Doctor’s legs. Fondly he caressed his thighs and brushed over the tender spots above his upper part of the hip bone._   
_“I want you to enjoy this as much as I do,” the Master teased as he rolled the Doctor onto all fours before humping and thrusting against his rear end._   
_‘Just take that stupid apple out of my mouth and I swear I won’t kill you when we’re finished,’ replied the Doctor non-verbally via their mental link._

_The Master stared at the Doctor taken aback. “You still know my frequency?” he stuttered, visibly astonished, “Oh, dear Doctor, we haven’t used that one in years! Oh, it feels so good to hear your voice, your true voice inside my head.”_

_He retrieved the wooden apple from the Doctor’s mouth. Before the Doctor could have said a word the Master had already clamped a hand over his lips._   
_“Of course, hearing your lustful moans and sighs is not to be scoffed at, either.”_   
_The Doctor stared at him aghast. As soon as the Master retrieved his hand he stammered: “Now look here, I’m very flattered and all but...”_   
_“Oh, how to shut him up,” the Master sighed. This time he tied a ribbon around the Doctor’s mouth so he would only hear the muffled complaints and reproaches._

_The Master busied himself with groping the Doctor. To his delight he spotted the unmistakable signs of the Doctor’s arousal; his body betrayed him by displaying his lust, his blood gave away the secret of his horniness by rushing down into his pelvic region, causing his nether regions to swell._   
_The Doctor groaned something incomprehensible before a soft moan escaped his lips;_   
_the Master had already facilitated the anal intrusion by use of saliva and pre-cum._

_“Use my name,” the Master moaned while penetrating the Doctor’s body mercilessly._   
_‘Master’ he heard the Doctor whispering in his head. Was he begging? Was he pleading?_   
_“That’s not my name,” the Master whispered into his ear as he buried his fingers in his brown hair, “I said use my name.”_   
_The Master picked up the pace, ploughed the Doctor ruthlessly, broke his gruesome rhythm and waited for the Doctor to catch his breath and his hearts to start beating again before continuing to poke him at a heart-stopping speed again._

_And he wheezed into his ear over and over again:_   
_“Use my name... use my name, Doctor...”_

_And eventually the Master received the tone of voice he’d been waiting to hear for so long:_   
_“Koschei... Kosch, please...”_

_The Master bit into the Doctor’s neck and drew blood before he found his own breath-taking release inside of the Doctor._   
_The Doctor groaned quietly and winced._   
_Though he soon discovered that the Master wasn’t as merciless as he’d given him credit for because a pair of very considerate and unexpectedly soft hands grabbed his own throbbing member and boosted it to the most blissful climax it had ever experienced._

_Eventually the Master, who had collapsed on top of the Doctor and had until now listened to his two hearts in ecstasy, was willing to untie the Doctor._   
_The ribbon around his neck was removed last._

_“Ouch,” the Doctor hissed while dabbing at the wound in his neck, “Why did you have to bite me?”_   
_“It’s a declaration of true love,” the Master said sweetly._   
_“No, it’s a sure sign of rabies,” the Doctor mumbled grumpily, “And stop hugging me, that feels... weird.”_

_“You’ve always been very touchy-feely,” the Master replied while ruffling the Doctor’s hair._   
_“No, but I didn’t dare to put up a fight because back in our days at the Academy you were both bigger and stronger than me,” replied the Doctor while trying to avoid the Master’s touch, “And besides you were in for the hanky-panky stuff only.”_

_“Oh, come on, Doctor,” the Master sighed, “Just for once we could put our differences aside and just sit somewhere in the TARDIS in front of a fire and discuss about my plans and how you’re going to stop me.”_   
_“No,” mumbled the Doctor._   
_The Master looked at him meekly. “I even have something for you,” he explained._   
_“Another pair of stockings?” the Doctor asked mockingly._   
_He grabbed the sonic screwdriver the Master had handed him and examined it closely._   
_“Got you a new one,” the Master said. “It’s Christmas, after all. Just keep it away from freezing orphans and everything will be fine.”_   
_“Thanks,” the Doctor mumbled, taken by surprise. He patted his pockets. “I have nothing I could give you in return,” he sighed._

_The Master patted him on the back._   
_“Oh, you don’t have to. I already got your TARDIS-key, which means that I can keep you in this room for as long as I want to,” the Master explained while heading for the door, “And merry Christmas to you too!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the final chapter!  
> We’d cordially like to thank all those who left kudos and those who kept reading the story for their continued support! Thanks for reading and merry Christmas from both DoctorDalek and TraditionalGaily.


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